Star Wars Intervention: Echoes in Eternity (An Original Trilogy Game; Always taking new players!!!)

STAR WARS​

INTERVENTION II​

Echoes in Eternity​

MUSIC​

It is a dark time in the galaxy, although hope has flared on the distant horizon. The evil Galactic Empire's Death Star has been destroyed, saving not only the struggling Rebel Alliance, but giving hope to a galaxy plunged in darkness for far too long. As the events of the Death Star unfolded, another battle for life or death took place over the Outer Rim planet of Port Haven. There, Imperial forces lead by Emperor's Hand Mara Jade sought to capture the new leader of the mercenary group known as the Mercs. To her Master's dismay, the mythical Kingdom of Jod prevented the evil Empire's plans from being successful. And in further reaches of the galaxy, the Empire's top secret Project Zero comes to a destructive end, ending the Empire's bid to establish a top secret base in the Kingdom of Jod's home galaxy of Companion Cresh. Now, the Heroes of Yavin of the Rebel Alliance have been trapped in the Yavin System for 5 months, due to the Blockade of Yavin by Imperial Forces under the command of Darth Vader.

The Mercs, once lead by a Clone Wars veteran Captain Rick Taller, is now lead by his successor, a young firebrand Corellian by the name of Jason Lasso. Consumed with the Prophecy, as defined by the Kingdom of Jod for the Mercs to be "like shooting stars" in the galaxy's darkest hour, the Mercs escape Port Haven, recovered their beloved Marauder-class Corvette from the Kingdom of Jod's repair bays, and blasted out into the galaxy to ready themselves for the coming Shadow War between the Rebel Alliance, Galactic Empire, Kingdom of Jod, and the Jod's arch enemies, the Beasts. Ready to finish the bloody business that they were unfairly thrown into under Taller's leadership during an Imperial ambush near Port Haven several months before the Battle of Yavin, the Mercs look forward to meeting up with Jod forces in the galaxy proper. And the Jod never showed. Days turn into weeks and weeks into months and finally, with no sign of the promised Jod for the coming Shadow War, the Mercs moved on, desperate for fuel, food, and credits to pay the crew. Adrift in a galaxy that was once defined by a daring prophecy amidst the Galactic Civil War, the young Corellian Captain leads his rag-tag band of mercenaries onto a new mission none of them saw coming after Port Haven: life after the Kingdom of Jod. What now becomes the question of the Mercs...do they fight for themselves or for a greater cause?

For months after the destruction of Project Zero and near annihilation of most Imperial forces around the Red Rock Planet, former Imperial Security Bureau Investigator Hilick Soal readied what he could of his once mighty Royal Red Squadron of Imperial warships, preparing to chase after the Mercs and run them into the ground at Port Haven. To finally rid the galaxy----and himself---of the mercenary band that had almost brought near destruction to his personal mission from the Emperor to recover the pieces of Red Rock that once belonged to the Kingdom of Jod's historical planet in the Mid Rim thousands of years ago, now spread across the galaxy. The chance for revenge never came; the ISB and even Imperial Intelligence failed to locate the mercenaries and the few reports that could be found were of little use to track them down. It had seemed---along with the disappearance of the Kingdom of Jod---that Hilick Soal had missed his chance for revenge. Captain Rick Taller and his ragtag group of freedom fighters had slipped through his grasp...and it seemed, forever. But former gives the annotation of something taken or something added upon thy. Former, in this case, was the promotion of Hilick Soal to a new position within the Imperial Court itself as General Preeminent for saving the Emperor's life during Project Zero's destruction. Armed with a new Assertor-class Star Dreadnought named the Darkest Night, Hilick Soal is given his orders: the destruction of the Emperor's enemies by any means at his disposal and to seek out and destroy the Mercs; as Darth Vader works as the Emperor's right arm, Hilick Soal works as his left arm, and the Emperor's Hands work as his eyes and ears. Finally, Soal's orders are to locate the Kingdom of Jod by any and all means possible and bring them to their knees under Imperial rule. Foreshadowed by these orders, Hilick Soal remembers his destiny to destroy the Galactic Empire. But in order to do that, he must play the role that destiny has given: conquerer and murderer to the Rebel Alliance and anyone that stands in the Emperor's way.

"He" and Alexander Zat roam through the criminal underground, avoiding death and enslavement at every turn. They seek the answers to the Ancient Scrolls: where has the Kingdom of Jod gone?

Darth Vader seeks an answer to bring back his beloved Padme Amidala. Supported by a rogue Imperial scientist and cloned bodies of his dead wife, Vader seeks to bring his wife back alive through the Force. To, once again, be united with her. And then destroy the Emperor himself. Amidst his personal desires against the Emperor, Vader seeks out his son, Luke Skywalker, to unite with him in the destruction of the Emperor. Finally, with his wife and son by his side, true peace could be brought to the galaxy. But, at what cost to the galaxy? And at what cost to Vader himself?

As the galaxy spirals out of control in madness as the Galactic Civil War rages on, an ancient darkness has awoken in the Unknown Regions and has planned it's bloody revenge against all of life itself. Rebel nor Imperial, Jod nor Beast, Merc nor civilian, will be able to stand against it. As the galaxy tears itself apart in civil war, a greater evil threatens to destroy everything and force all to bow to its rule. Can sworn enemies unite under one banner to destroy this unholy evil or will the personal desires of everyone bring destruction upon them?

As the question of Allegiance becomes the forefront thought of every Rebel and Imperial on the front lines, ancient mysteries hidden in the galaxy may hold the key to defeating the unholy storm coming from the Unknown Regions. But, can the Mercs seek to become the heroes that they were destined to be and discover the answer before its too late?

"What we do in life, echoes in eternity." - Maximus Decimus Meridius​

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HOW TO START​

In 3 easy steps, you can become a player of Intervention: Echoes in Eternity!

• Step one, read our "Welcome" section below. It gives you a wealth of important information about our game and a brief summary of our first game, STAR WARS: INTERVENTION. Please read the "Rules" section as well.

• Step two, if you choose to go beyond the brief summary in our Welcome section, please read our "Storyline Post One" post below; to avoid confusion, simply put, the Storyline Post is the opening prologue to Intervention: Echoes in Eternity. While reading the "Welcome" section will give you a brief overview of our first game, the below prologue will truly ground your feet in how Echoes in Eternity starts. However, reading the prologue is not a requirement to game play.

• Step three, create a character sheet using the "Characters" section below our Welcome section. Please be sure to Private Message (PM) your character sheet to Bravo for approval before posting in this game thread.

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WELCOME​

Welcome to Intervention: Echoes in Eternity, the successor of the RPF Award winning (Best Star Wars RPG, Spring 2010 and Best GM, Spring 2010) Star Wars: Intervention, which had a historic long run from June 2009 to November 2013, with 51 players coming and going through its doors during that time period. Intervention: Echoes in Eternity is the continuation of the epic storyline from the first game of Intervention, where a ragtag group of mercenaries known as "The Mercs" are thrown into galactic events as the mythical Kingdom of Jod, Galactic Empire, and Rebel Alliance battle it out over the last remnants of the Jod's once destroyed home world, the Red Rock Planet. The planet's rebuilt state allows the Empire to harvest the planet's given name of mineral, Red Rock, which is a rare repairing, growing, and Force sensitive rock with the ability to heal any sickness or injury, give unlimited power with just a fraction of a rock for a whole city, and provide a gateway to the Jod's home galaxy of Companion Cresh, which is otherwise inaccessible by other means other then by Sleeper Ships, and to their advanced hyperspace technology called Red Space. The game began with just the Empire and Mercs, then introduced the Rebels, Kingdom of Jod, and a ancient enemy of the Jod, known as the Beasts. Through several missions and story arcs, the Mercs found themselves entangled with a galactic prophecy of a coming Shadow War. The game ended with the near-escape of the Mercs under superior Imperial forces at Port Haven, the Mercs long-time home Shadow Port of call. This game, Echoes in Eternity, picks up 5 months (.5 ABY) after the events of the Battle of Yavin, near the end of the Blockade of Yavin.

You are part of the mercenary group known as the Mercs; a group formed under the leadership of a former Grand Army of the Republic Non-Clone brigade leader known as Rick Taller, the Clone Wars veteran forms the Mercs over Port Haven just days after the infamous Order 66. Equipped with military equipment and what Non-Clone and Clone loyalists soldiers he has, Taller rages an all-out war against the Galactic Empire in the name of the Republic and the Jedi. Convincedthat Emperor Palpatine is evil, the Jedi loyalist fights the Empire near and far across the galaxy for years. Finally, in 3 months before the Battle of Yavin (.3 BBY), the Mercs meet their match over the Mid Rim planet of Watava, when they first encounter Hilick Soal and the Imperial Royal Red Squadron. The rest of the story of Star Wars: Intervention can be located at STAR WARS: INTERVENTION; as a note, the thread was damaged during "The Move" from the old boards to the new boards and a fair amount of information is either missing or incomplete. There is a digital backup of the first 99 pages of the game, which is uncorrupted, which will be posted again hopefully for your viewing pleasure. The story was continued during "The Move" at Intervention (In-Character Game Thread; Temp Location) before the new boards came online here.

Intervention: Echoes in Eternity is a turn based online text-based role-playing game, with the style of of play-by-post role-playing game (story format) to be specific.

Intervention: Echoes in Eternity has several support threads that help out of game community and Library Thread information for the game as a whole:

• Rocketjock Eatery (a Out-of-Game / Out-of-Character Discussion Thread)
  • Post questions for Game Master(s) here (replaces the usage of Private Messages, unless needed for privacy concerns)
  • Have an idea, not sure if it will work? Ask it here!
  • Have a comment on a post OOG? Anything not "In Character" goes here!
  • Please, avoid socializing when possible. The RPF has threads designed just for socializing.

• Quick Reference
  • Our Library Thread
  • Excellent reference thread for anything Intervention!
  • No replies permitted; for Game Master posts only; do not post in the thread basically

• Library Wiki
  • An off-site Library Thread; unknown if it will ever be finished, but still has valuable resources and information for the game! Thanks to CPL_Macja for his upkeep and additions to the Wiki Library!

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CHARACTERS​

Intervention: Echoes in Eternity allows recognized character types from the Star Wars Universe; in short, no characters from other science fiction franchises (i.e. Star Trek or Firefly, etc.), unless authorized by the Game Master. Some general principals to know about characters:

• No "super hero" characters; every character has a flaw, no one is perfect. See our Game Policies in the Quick Reference for more information.

• No Jedi, Sith, or other "Force" based characters. Characters may have the Force, but it is restricted to Luke Skywalker's abilities in A New Hope. See our Declaration of the Force and Force Ranking System in the Quick Reference for more information. Game Master(s), for sake of storyline purposes only, are exempt from this rule.

• Only "Merc" characters allowed; Imperial, Rebel, and / or other organization based characters are forbidden, unless authorized by either Game Master Bravo or Co-Game Master Sith-I-5.

• No Star Wars "canon" character is playable in the game; only staff Game Masters are allowed to play characters from the movies and or books from the Star Wars universe for any extended period of time.

• Each "player" or "staff member" may role play one "In Character" (IC; primary) character and up to two "Non Playable Characters" (NPC; secondary) characters. Game Masters Bravo, @Sith-I-5, and @Bardan_Jusik are exempt from this rule for the sake of the storyline and may role play as many characters as needed.

• While most NPCs are free use (for all players to use), several are restricted usage to certain players. Please see the Quick Reference for more information.

• No one can kill another player's character or restricted NPC without the prior consent of the player whom the character(s) belong to

• MOST IMPORTANT; you must "role play" to your character sheet. You cannot be something or do something not in your Character Sheet. Your character may gain "life experience," in which Character Sheets may be resubmitted to Bravo for update approval.

Character Sheet
Must be filled out in full and Private Messaged---PM---to Bravo for approval before starting in the game. Once approved, post character sheets in the primary game thread.
The below Character Sheet is referenced from the old Jedi Council Forums' RPF before "The Move" in 2012. Some modifications have been added to the Character Sheet.

Name:​

Gender:​

Age:​

Species:​

Home World:​

Affiliation:​

Personality​

---Traits:​

---Likes:​

---Dislikes:​

---Habits:​

Appearance​

---Skin Color:​

---Hair Color:​

---Eye Color:​

---Clothing:​

---Other Attributes:​

---Other Details:​

Weapons:​

Skills (NEW!!!)​

---Primary Skill: [This is something (one skill) you specialize (master) in very well and is a unique skill set to your character. I.e. starfighter pilot, soldier, doctor, mechanic, etc.]​

---Secondary Skill: [This is something (one skill) you are good at; its not your specialty and not something you have mastered, but it something you are good at. I.e. see above]​

---Life Experience: [This is a few things (up to three) you have knowledge of or general working knowledge of, usually gained through either education or life experience. You are not "good" at these skills, but are okay or at the very least workable with them when the need arises.]​

Education (NEW!!!)​

---General Education: [Your general education; high school, college, etc.]​

---Specialized Education: [Did you get special training from the military or a technicial school at a particular craft or skill? Military Officer's School, Academies, Top Secret Agent training, etc.]​

Flaws / Limitations (NEW!!!)​

----Physical: [Describe a physical limitation or weakness your character has. Is your species generally weaker then most other species and do they have to rely on technology to survive in a increasingly physical world? Do they have a leg, arm, or hand missing that hasn't been replaced by a clone body part or a robotic replacement?]​

----Mental: [Did your character sustain a brain injury and have memory loss or a loss of certain brain function? Is your character unable to read and or write? Is your character a drop-out from high school and may lack certain knowledge of the greater galaxy and the workings therein? ]​

---Emotional: [Is your character haunted by the loss of a family member? A romantic relationship? A traumatic event? What could "trigger" a emotionally unstable character in a situation?]​

---General: [Is your character not the best hand-to-hand fighter? Not good at shooting? Does our character have a weakness when in close contact to certain objects and or people?]​

---Character Critical Failure: [What is one thing that can hurt your character? The inability to see in the dark or in the light? The inability to breathe oxygen? Is it the inability to swim? The inability to run? What is one thing that would cause your character to "fail" in ANY situation? What is your character's kryptonite?]​

Starship​

---Name:​

---Class:​

---Speed:​

---Hull Rating: [Strength of hull]​

---Shields:​

---Ejection System:​

---Life Support:​

---Hyperdrive Class:​

---Weapon(s):​

---Crew:​

---Passenger(s):​

---Max Cargo (kg):​

---Interior Description:​

---Other Details:​

The Force​

---Sensitivity:​

---Religion:​

---Lightsaber​

-----Crystal(s):​

-----Blade(s):​

-----Color(s):​

-----Handle Description(s):​

---Force Abilities:​

---Force Weakness:​

---Other Force Object(s):​

Biography​

---Personal History:​

---Military History:​

---Traumatic Experiences:​

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RULES​

Rules:
Updated: 10-13-2013



1) Please follow the RPF Rules and be mindful of the Terms of Service, Rules of the Jedi Council Forums, and Harassment Policy.

2) Game Master Bravo's word is final in terms of Intervention, unless otherwise stated by a Moderator or Manager of the Role Playing Forum. Co-Game Master Sith-I-5 holds identical ranking authority and his word is final approval as Bravo, unless otherwise stated by Bravo. Assistant Game Masters Mitth_Fisto and Bardan_Jusik help manage Intervention. Intervention's management team is collectively known as "Staff".

3) All character sheets must be PMed (Private Message) to Bravo for approval; as a general rule, no Sith, Dark Jedi, or Gray Jedi are allowed. Jedi-based characters are restricted to entrance into the game with the Force abilities of Luke Skywalker in Star Wars: A New Hope; further information on Jedi themed characters can be found in our Force Ranking System. Players are allowed one (1) In-Character (IC) and up to 2 Non-Player Characters (NPC).

4) All Out-of-Game and/or Out-of-Character discussions and questions should be posted and answered in the Rocketjock Eatery (A Star Wars: Intervention OOC/OOG discussion thread). The Rocketjock Eatery should be used as the public means of game questions and other discussions verses that of PM (Private Message). Private Message should be used for private discussions.

5) All tag(s) should be replied to within a week (7 days) time period, unless other circumstances such as family, college, work, or DRL (Darth Real Life) prevent a timely reply. Please let other players and staff know of such delays via the Rocketjock Eatery (details of the delay are not required, since that information is private to you). If a response to a tag is not received within 7 days, without one of the above described reasons posted in the Rocketjock Eatery, then a staff member may use a NPC (Non-Player Character) to move your character along without directly influencing your character's actions. In general, if possible, 2 posts a week or (averaged out) 1 post every 3 1/2 days is the acceptable means of role playing activity in Echoes in Eternity (tags excluded, see above).

6) All major storylines (a storyline that affects the game as a whole) must have prior approval by Bravo via PM or the Rocketjock. Minor storylines (those that only affect your character and one (1) or two (2) other characters with prior approval by those users) are freely allowed without Bravo's prior approval.

7) Any disputes between players, players and staff, or staff and staff that cannot be handled in a peaceful manner, must be forwarded to Bravo via Private Message (PM) for further action. Any disputes that violate the Terms of Service, Rules of the Jedi Council Forums, and/or Harassment Policy must be forwarded to both Bravo and a Role Playing Forum Moderator or Manager immediately.

8) Copyright; players and staff are implored to make references and give credit to any and all creations not their own that they incorporate from outside sources into the game threads.

9) Please adhere to the "Declarations" and Game Policies listed in the Quick Reference.

10) Have fun!

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GAME STAFF​

• Game Master; Bravo
  • In charge of all game functions
  • 2009 to present

• Co Game Master; Sith-I-5
  • Second-in-Command
  • Authority to do what is needed for the "good of the game"
  • Role Plays multiple NPCs for the game
  • Controls most Imperial storylines
  • Has authority to approve Character Sheets
  • 2011 to present (player since 2010)

• Assistant Game Master; @Mitth_Fisto
  • Longest member of Intervention, since opening in 2009
  • Assists where needed in the game
  • Helps to oversee the game as a whole and conduct actions to ensure proper game functionality
  • 2010 to present (player since 2009)

• Assistant Game Master; @Bardan_Jusik
  • Assists where needed in the game
  • Helps to oversee the game as a whole and conduct actions to ensure proper game functionality
  • 2013 to present (player since 2012)

• Honorary Co Game Master; greyjedi125
  • Co Founder of Intervention
  • Former Co Game Master from 2009 to 2011
  • Assists where needed, as requested by Game Master staff
  • Not a Game Master; traditional Game Master authority and power not active, but can be if requested by Game Master staff

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GAME LINKS​

• Game Thread; Echoes in Eternity (present)
  • Star Wars: Intervention (locked; completed, 2009-2013)
  • Temp Boards (locked; completed, 2012 to 2013)
• Rocketjock Eatery (OOG)
• Quick Reference
• Wiki Library (Inactive)

GAME START: ONE WEEK FROM TODAY. GAME OPEN TO ON-GOING RECRUITMENT AT ALL TIMES; WE'RE ALWAYS TAKING NEW PLAYERS!

 

GAME START: ONE WEEK FROM TODAY (GAME MASTER WILL POST START OF GAME). GAME OPEN TO ON-GOING RECRUITMENT AT ALL TIMES; WE'RE ALWAYS TAKING NEW PLAYERS! POST YOUR APPROVED CHARACTER SHEETS BELOW.

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Storyline Post One (Game Prologue)

Expansion Region, Red Rock Kingdom controlled space, 27,395 BBY



Patrick Skystriker's rhythmic breathing through his self-contained life supported armored flight suit was a stark reminder, as always, to the young flight commander of the very thin layer of grace he and his other comrades had as they flew these nimble machines through the void of outer space. Despite a self-contained flight suit, one crack in the cancopy over him could send him flying into outer space and lost forever, if not for his crash webbing that secured him in place. A simple malfunction in his life support could spell dome for his life in the cramped machine of death; a simple loose bolt in the engine housing could fly into the engine reaction and blow him to bits. But, all of these dangers failed in comparison to the danger that he and his three other comrades flew themselves at now, a Royal-class Corvette behind them for the coming engagement ahead.

On his canopy screen, red data scrolled down, telling him of his pitch and yaw, of his fuel status, of the operation of his starfighter. It also had a blinking red box around a running freighter ahead, her sensor readings showing critical damage, as flames licked out in space from various hull ruptures, the flames quickly dying to the vacuum of space as they escaped the damaged freighter.

"Echo Flight Lead, this is Star Raider. How do you copy?" Came the Corvette's captain.

"Star Raider, this is Echo Flight Lead. We copy loud and clear," Patrick replied, catching a floating picture of his mom and dad that had come loose from the console and putting it back in place; there was no artificial gravity in these death traps, so everything floated if not secured.

"Echo Flight, disengage your fuel pods and prepare to engage hostile targets. Mark hostiles as targets firing on damaged freighter. Repeated communications attempts on varied mediums have failed to produce identification of hostile targets. They are now considered hostiles and have entered our space committing an act of hostile aggression against a freighter broadcasting a distress signal. You are cleared to engage, order conformation Alpha-Bata-Zero-Nine-Echo-Three. For the record."

"Copy, Star Raider. Orders are to engage confirmed hostile targets firing on damaged freighter broadcasting a distress signal in our controlled space. Order confirmation Alpha-Bata-Zero-Nine-Echo-Three. Star Raider, make sure you watch the back fire of our fuel pods, vacuum is going to suck them towards you."

"We copy Echo Flight. Particle shields are to full and tractor beam teams are on stand-by. Good hunting, Echo Flight."

Everything was recorded by Command back on Prime. Everything had to be scripted, because this was the Red Rock Kingdom's first encounter with the rest of the galaxy.

"Echo Flight, this is Echo Flight Leader. You are cleared to engage hostile targets identified as attacking the freighter broadcasting a distress signal. Adjust your course to heading two-point-three and eject your fuel pods. Proceed at intercept speeds. Keep your chatter to mission only."

"Echo Two copies."

"Echo Three copies."

"Echo Four copies."

Patrick adjust his flight path, felt the kick as he hit the button for his fuel pods to be ejected, and accelrated to intercept speeds. Their capital ship support in the Corvette grew smaller in the distance as they speed towards the stricken freighter and the attacking hostile forces.

"Echo Flight, pincher formation. Slit the freighter down the bow to port and starboard; I want a detailed visual of the freighter and any survivors. Come around to the freighter's rear and engage hostile targets in wing pairs. Keep it to the book, people."

The four starfighters split the damaged freighter down the bow; Patrick looked to his left as he had taken the freighter's port side. The ship was in bad shape, carbon scoring was all over her hull; her name, Hope's Journey, was scored badly and her running lights were out here and there along the length of the ship's name. The hostiles---now more clearly to be defined as pirates---caught onto to the fact that the Red Rock Kingdom Defense Forces were not missing around and started to break from the freighter in order to come about on the Red Rock starfighters. There was six attacking pirate ships, most notably starfighter class with extended fuel capabilities. Extended fuel capabilities or not, a mother ship had to be close by.

"Echo Flight Lead to Star Raider."

"Star Rider. Go ahead, Echo Flight Lead."

"Confirmed visual on both damaged freighter and hostile targets. Freighter is heavily damaged, but there are still, what appears to be, organic forms on the bridge waving to us for help. The hostile targets are confirmed starfighter class, extended fuel tanks attached. Possible carrier craft close by. Request additional reinforcements."

"Copy Echo Flight. We'll send the information and your request to Command. Star Raider clear."

Patrick brought his starfighter around, passing over his sister pairs above, as he said into his comlink, "Echo Two, you still with me?"

"Copy Echo Lead. One your four o'clock."

"Copy. Arm weapon systems. Engage by flight teams, keep my six o'clock clear."

"Copy Echo Lead. Engage by flight teams. Keep your six o'clock clear."

Patrick brought his starfighter over the starboard aft engine array of the stricken freighter; these hostile targets were not of military training and didn't act a group. Instead, they scattered without wing pairs and tried to engage the Red Rock forces solo.

Fools.

Patrick got behind one such unlucky hostile and a pair of blaster bolts in the rear engine array sent the craft out of control to the right; soon, whether it was a chain reaction from the hit in the engine array or a interior fire in the starfighter itself, it exploded, it's aft engine array ablaze moments before it's destruction.

"Echo Flight Lead, one hostile target confirmed KIA."

Turning his head from the rapidly expanding cloud of gas and debris from the hostile starfighter, Patrick turned his attention to adjusting his flight path away from the freighter's starboard and, banking away and up, caught glimpse of another one of the hostiles below.

"Hostile below, Echo Two. Adjusting course to intercept."

"Copy Echo Lead. Adjusting course to cover your six o'clock."

"Echo Three, confirmed KIA of two hostile starfighters."

"Echo Four, confirmed kill of hostile starfighter. Three easy quick bags."

"Don't get cocky Echo Three and Four," Patrick warned, "Stay alert for hostiles."

Patrick adjusted his speed and dropped the starfighter downwards, using his superior angle to drift above the hostile. The hostile had no idea Patrick was there; maybe his starfighter didn't have sensors or his sensors were malfunctioning. Or maybe he wasn't paying attention. Either way, as Patrick came above him, he pepped the hostile with blaster bolts, watching the hostile explode.

"Echo Lead, second hostile confirmed KIA."

Suddenly, Patrick's alarms went off on a sensor lock. His cockpit glowed red with emergency.

"Echo Lead, we have a follower! Sensor lock! Breaking to engage enemy at rear to starboard; going to try to box him into the freighter's debris to slow him down! Break opposite on my mark!"

"Copy Echo Two. Keep calm. You don't want to use up your oxygen supply. Steady breathes."

"Copy. Break in Three...Two...One...BREAK!"

"Breaking port, Echo Two," Patrick said, watching as a missile flew past where he had been moments before. Putting his starfighter into a hard bank to port, slowing down his speed to put him on a flip around turn to face the enemy or at least get on his six o'clock, Patrick looked straight up and out his canopy to see Echo Two wind up behind the hostile. Patrick pushed the attack, forcing the hostile starfighter back towards the freighter as he brought his bank around. Echo Two closed the distance from the rear and boxed the hostile in from the freighter side, forcing the hostile into a narrow path between [Patrick and himself, with the freighter straight ahead. If this hostile was a seasoned pilot, he would understand he was being boxed in and would correct his course to avoid the freighter. But he wasn't, instead the hostile tried to use the freighter as cover, speeding ahead.

Fool. Space debris from the freighter slowed his approach and Echo Two had a sensor lock.

"Echo Two, missile lock on hostile starfighter. Firing, Fox One."

A missile shot out from Echo Two and the missile's rocket package shot it towards the hostile starfighter, which exploded with the impact as he tried to avoid a piece of space debris.

"Echo Two, hostile starfighter confirmed KIA by Fox One missile."

"Echo Lead to Echo Flight. Status update?"

"Echo Three to Echo Lead. Echo Three and Four clear of hostile targets. No additional hostiles on sesnors."

"Echo Lead, confirms, no additional hostiles on sensors. Break, Star Raider, mission field clear. I repeat, mission field is clear of hostiles."

"Echo Flight, this is Star Raider. We copy your traffic. Command is sending in additional warships to secure the area. Escort the freighter to location Point-Five-Point-One; we have communications with the freighter for instructions. We will adjust course to meet you there for further escort and orders."

"Echo Flight copies, Star Raider. Escort freighter to Point-Five-Point One for further escort and orders. Break, Echo Flight. Escort formation, secure the four corners and guide freighter in. Star Raider has communications established with the freighter for instructions."

As the pin-point shapes of other Red Rock Kingdom warships appeared behind the corvette Star Raider, Patrick realized that the history of the Red Rock Kingdom would be radically changed now. Today, they had encountered the outside galaxy. Today, little known to Patrick Skystriker, the the birth of the Kingdom of Jod was set into motion years in the future and the revelation of a prophecy during the galaxy's most destructive conflict, the Galactic Civil War, would come true for a small mercenary group known as the Mercs. All because he, Patrick, had engaged hostile targets entering his government's controlled space firing upon a broadcasting distress signal freighter But, at this moment in time, none of this occurred or mattered to Patrick. What mattered was that his flight was all coming home alive and they had saved the freighter from the hostiles.


OOG: More on the story and history of this post can be located in the Quick Reference, under "Red Rock Kingdom History, Culture, and Military: A Chronicle" (page 2)

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Present time, 5 Months after the events of "Star Wars: Intervention," .5 ABY

Unknown Planet, Wild Space


Jason Lasso released a 3 round burst from his A280 blaster rifle, the black armored and silver visor trooper collapsing down on his now mangled left knee. Above, anti-air craft batteries from around the burning city gave response to a swirl of starfighters and air speeders in combat above the night sky. Rising out of the dirt trench that had been a temporary home, Lasso walked calmly up to the man who was grunting and snarling in pain, while holding his now destroyed left knee, near stub of a leg now. In a final act of defiance, the man started to raise his own blaster rifle to kill Jason, but the mercenary Captain calmly kicked the rifle out of the man's grip, then finished him off with a bolt to the head at close range. The now limp body fell backwards to the ground, the mangled left knee bending backwards with the weight and motion of the knee joint, exposing the mangled remains of the tissue and bone that once was a human knee. The head, well, there was nothing left but a smoking mangled armored mess of a hole where the face and helmet had been.

"Chief?" Lasso asked calmly, resting his blaster rifle on one raised thigh as his foot secured a loose motor block for footing and the other foot secured the ground; thunderous reports of battle off in the not so distance buildings beyond sight. Up ahead, rows of destroyed blocks---some buildings still on fire----lay ahead as a waste ruin. Lasso took a final drag of his now shortened cigar before spitting it out on the ground and stepping on it to snuff it out. Like it mattered in this war zone anyways, but it was the thought that counted.

Chief of Security, Beskaryc Taab, finished off a near-by soldier to their far left with a single shot from his blaster carbine to the head, the soldier falling backwards like a folded piece of paper as his run towards them came to an unexpected and sudden halt. The Security Chief was next to Lasso soon thereafter, scanning the area, "All secure, Captain. The command bunker should be straight ahead, in that distance skyscraper, underground bunker. Two klicks from here."

"If we make it before that fire guts it," Lasso said, "Or before Havah's team, gets to it."

"Well," Taab said, in a rare moment of humanity, "We need to show those spooks who the better team is. Plus, Atin would never let me live it down if I allowed a bunch of spook geeks get to that gold first."

A whomp! thundered from behind them and a rocket-propelled missile shot out, streaking out along the road before them and, just as it reached the far corner of the block head, turned right and drove into the cockpit of the AT-ST, the walker coming into view at the cross streets of the corner in time for all to see, it's cockpit ablaze; the walker cockpit seemed to "slouch" on the walker legs, before falling over, smoking bellowing from the cockpit as it crashed into the ground.

Both Lasso and Taab turned around to see an armored Kilo Typhon standing behind them with a HH-15 projectile launcher over his shoulder. Lowering it, Kilo shrugged, "Don't be jealous."



**********************************


Yavascout didn't give much thought to the poor soldiers in front of him, all 3 of them, guarding the last usable blast door into the underground levels of the skyscraper. Well, maybe, he thought they were uneducated bloody idiots---mercenaries like themselves, yet they (the Mercs) were educated---to allow an individual behind them in a closed off tunnel with only one way in or out, unless you activated the blast doors. But, the elf realized that he was cloaked after all. Well, was being the key phrase in that thought process, since he drove the combat knife deep into the soldier's back neck, between the armored helmet and chest armor. The soldier gasped loudly, which was expected, and the two other bloody idiots turned around to see what the noise was. At least Imperial Stormtroopers were smart enough to leave one pair of eyes turned front, but no, these bloody armored wearing fools both turned around! Well, that was the plan anyways. At least Stormtroopers would of given more of a challenge.

Both soldiers went to raise their weapons to gun down Yavascout (who still held the now limp mercenary soldier in his grasp), but two forms behind them raised up and silently killed both soldiers with combat knives to the throats from behind. The limp bodies fell at the feet of Winterkill and Havah Jeth respectfully.

"Not bad tech for mercenaries," Winterkill observed the dead bodies, then moved to secure the rear where they had come from.

"Not bad at all," Havah said to Winterkill before he left for the rear; Havah bent down to examine one of the bodies, "Model 210 personal armor. Rare and expensive. Some high scale mercenary outfit this is. I wonder who is paying their bills with all of that rumored gold they have."

"Have I got time to take a few pieces?" Yav asked.


********************************


Masha Tinovorsh brought the nose of her fighter up through the clouds, the landscape of clouds below her thundering with fiery explosions of fire and metal as flack and anti-aircarft guns gave the night a day-light feeling. But here, as she looked up at the double moons far above on the clear night, it was truly night. Cain Varss and Jensen Visak's fighters peaked through the below cloud cover to level their starfighters respectfully to Masha's port and starboard respectfully.

"Beautiful," Masha breathed over the comlink as she looked at the double moons above in the darkness of space, one a water world, the other a forest jungle; both moons were almost parallel of each other, the forest moon being further out and to the right of the smaller water moon.

Jensen and Cain both glanced up towards the moon, "And to think there is all that death down below us," Jensen thought as he looked at the double moons.

"Yea, well don't get comfortable," Cain said, "Not meaning to interrupt the walk in the park, but that mercenary base on that water moon has just launched another squadron of Vulture-class droid starfighters. They have a whole army and we got us."

"Well, we don't get paid to do it the easy way," Jensen said, "Plus, we have the planetary resistance fighting with us."

"And they called us again, why?" Cain replied.

"Point taken," Jensen said, more grimly now.

Cain nodded in the cockpit across the way to Jensen's starfighter, "Come back alive, Jensen."

"You too," Jensen replied.

"Okay boys, the bro-romance is over. Keep your heads on a swivel. Line up and meet those droids half way," Masha said, "Stay in formation. Lets go droid hunting. X foils in attack position. We need to give the ground team some more time."

"Yea, tell that to my fuel tank," Cain replied as he banked his starfighter up higher towards the end of the night sky and the beginning of the vacuum of space, following Masha.


********************************


The brightness of the mid day sun beat down on all below. The smoldering ruins of the city were in the distance, but the swirls of smoke just drifting from several buildings in the distance still wasn't enough to detour what the resistance group---the rightful government of this world---had wanted to do; flocks of birds flew from the buildings of the city now in the daylight and clear sky. Along the extended walk that lead from the ruined governmental palace---once white, now a darkened and misshaped war torn building----was a large landing pad, where the Mercs' new ILH-KK Citadel-class civilian cruiser, named the Luck's Gamble in honor of their destroyed Sentinel-class Landing Craft destroyed at Port Haven five months prior, sat, extended over a waterfall under them whose water fell into an ocean below. At the ramp of the Luck's Gamble stood Taab and Yavascout, flanking the several crates full of Ice-Jewels, Crytalline Vertex, a handful of Life Crystals, Nova Crystals, a few Krayt Dragon Pearls, Gold, and even Silver on the hover sled; Havah Jeth stood directly behind the crates on the ramp, with Winterkill and Kilo up in the cockpit running pre-flight checklists. A honor guard of assembled resistance fighters, palace guards for the government, and government officials and other high ranking civilians all stood along the extended walkway of the landing ramp on either side, wearing whatever their best was.

Lasso was walking along side the once government-in-exile leader and now world leader again, as they walked towards the Luck's Gamble.

Jason wasn't a trained Force user, but what he know was this "Danger Sense". And it was going off rather loudly. He kept trying to ignore it, but the more this world leader, President Trankvav, spoke, the more common sense kicked in. His hands behind his back as he walked, the Corellian mercenary captain typed in a few quick codes into his wrist comlink.

"As I was saying Captain," President Trankvav spoke too smoothly, "The people and I do thank you. Without your help, we would have never been able to shake the hold of the Private Defense and Intervention Corporation."

"Rather strong for a mercenary unit," Lasso observed in response, "Advanced ground warfare equipment and armor for their soldiers; air defense units, starfighter intercept units, air speeders, land speeders, and even Imperial walkers. Not to mention the resources and capability of setting up a support base on that water moon in orbit. Whatever happened that such a righteous small world such as yours could attract an advance private army?"

"The power to control others, especially in Wild Space far from the resources and eyes of the Empire and the Emperor, causes many to rule over the lesser peoples."

Lasso nodded, "I suppose so," Jason replied, looking up towards the hot sun and squinting at the intensity of the sun before looking back to the world leader, "Still, most well-connected and supplied mercenaries know about each other. And the Private Defense and Intervention Corporation is no minor company; they have holdings in almost every major weapons and armor manufacturer around the galaxy and their corporate offices are in the CSA, far from the prying eyes of any governmental oversight committee from Coruscant or the Core Worlds. And if we think the CSA would ever think of turning in one of their own businesses to the Empire for investigation of illegal practices, we'll need to think again. So," Jason said, stopping and turning around, "Let me redefine my earlier question. What do you have that the PDIC wants or that one of their clients wants from you. There's enough pure gold bars we are taking from the PDIC to fiancee an average world's economy for a whole year."

"Are you accusing me of something, Captain Lasso? Because if you are, you can depart immediately."

"Oh, we were going to leave. But that wasn't the plan, was it?" Jason stopped, turned to President Trankvav, and hit a few more buttons on his wrist comlink behind his back.

"What do you mean?" Trankvav replied, his disposition rather raffled at this moment.

A rocket pack could be heard in the distance and Jason and the world leader looked off to the right, a bounty hunting wearing Mandalorian armor coming in from the distant cliff side. The bounty hunter dropped the camouflaged man down on the landing ramp----the man was stunned----and then the bounty hunter dropped the sniper rifle from his other hand grip onto the deck. The extended fuel and upgraded power of the modified rocket pack was needed for such a load to carry.

Lasso looked from the now landed bounty hunter to the world leader, "Because you were going to assassinate us. Or try to, I should clarify now. And then take the mercenaries' payment we now have to restart your world. And leave us high and dry. But you see, that wasn't the agreement, was it? The agreement was that you would provide us access to your remaining military assets in hiding, which you did, and then you would keep any left over military equipment from the PDIC that we didn't want. All we asked was the rights to what we knew---and you knew---were the significant payoff the mercenary unit had. We didn't ask for any credits from you nor did we take anything from you or require anything from you. But you, all along, wanted the PDIC gone and then wanted that payoff. And we were going to be your ticket to both."

"Those credits and jewels and whatever else is ours!" the Trankvav spat back, "My people have suffered and died under the rule of the PDIC for over a year."

"Don't play the saint card," Jason said, calmly withdrawing a cigar from a pouch on his belt and igniting it; the captain took a drag of his cigar, "Or did you think we wouldn't do our own digging to find the truth? The PDIC operates with high rollers in the credit market. Did you not think we would trace your own military back to an attack on the peaceful, and very rich I might add, world of A'kgar three years ago? An attack with no reason, other then the death of hundreds of thousands of civilians in carpet bombing as your government and army moved in for their natural resources. The head of military operations then: you. You personally advised the direct use of carpet bombing against military targets in civilian population centers. Your top military advisers then, now all the heads of departments of your government now. The story you sold your people: the natural resources rich planet of A'kgar was planning an invasion of your planet on gathered intelligence reports. So it was a first strike measure to prevent invasion. But, you and your government leaders then hid the truth. The truth of the death of hundreds of thousands of civilians."

"You don't know what happened," The world leader replied, "You weren't there."

"I know, I wasn't. But," a trio of bird-like creatures came flying in from the left, landing on the platform behind the bounty hunter with the rocket pack, "But the A'kgar were."

"I'm tired of these games," Trankvav said, a Nemesis-class gunship coming down from the sky to hover to their left, "Now, hand over the gold and other crates! And then you may leave, after we kill these bird creatures."

Lasso took another drag from his cigar for a long moment before withdrawing it, "Do you think we're that stupid? Don't threaten me, because I find it insulting."

The gunship shook with impacts of heavy gunfire before breaking up, fiery debris going everywhere, honor guard and government officials running for cover. A piece of burning debris landing by the feet of Jason Lasso, the captain not moving, instead taking another drag of his cigar calmly, as he stared at the world leader who huddled in fear of the flying debris. A massive engine noise and heat started to surround the area and the armored hull of a Marauder-class Corvette rose from the depths of the ocean below, water still dripping off of her, as her bow became even with that of the landing pad, where it hovered.

Lasso walked the few feet it now took to reach the world leader. Jason crouched down, "Now, do we have an understanding? If you would of done your research, you would of known a Citidel-class starship only has docking ports for two starfighters. I had three starfighters. I don't show all my cards, but it was clear you were stupid enough---or playing the game I thought you were playing all along----to not ask the detailed questions any man with common sense should ask. So, don't play me as a fool."

Lasso stood up and turned around and walked towards the rocket pack bounty hunter, "Good job, Atin."

"No problem, Cap," the bounty hunter replied.

Lasso lowered his voice, "Watch my back, will you? It would be rather embarrassing to have that bad-*** moment and then get shot in the back. Did you get all the sniper nests cleaned up?"

"Yea," Atin said, "All seventeen of them around the cape. Took the night, but got it done quietly."

"Good," Lasso said, "Let's go home."

Atin smiled under his helmet, "Yes, sir," then adopted a very serious look under his helmet (although the government leaders and honor guard couldn't see it under his helmet) as he raised his blaster their way to detour any undesirable action.

"Mercs," Jason said out-loud as he walked towards the Luck's Gamble, "Mount up and load up. We're headed out."



************************************


Troop Rec Room, Johnny Boy, hyperspace heading towards the Corporate Sector Authority


Lasso was finishing a set of pull-ups after a long work-out, when the good doctor himself, Chief Medical Officer Russel Cook, walked in. "Doc," Jason strained through words as he finished his last pull-up and dropped to the matted floor below the bar above.

"Captain Lasso," Russel replied in the all too familiar smile.

"What did I do this time?" Lasso asked, wiping the sweat from his face with a work-out towel nearby.

"Well, its not what you did do, its what you didn't do."

"Hu-huh," Jason said, taking a sip of water from his water bottle.

"You need to start taking the reentry protocols more serious, Captain. You and the others were on that planet for a full month. Who knows what unknown bacteria you brought aboard the ship. It could start a uncontrolled chain-reaction of illnesses and even death if I don't have the right medications or equipment to stop an epidemic soon enough."

"I'll try better next time, Doc," Lasso said, nodding to the data-pad the doctor was holding, "Supplies?"

"Well, yes," Russel said, "But you need to get to the medical bay for decon as soon as---"

"Supplies, Doc? I'll see you in the medical bay in ten minutes. Now, what do we need?"

Russel sighed, "Almost everything. Those 'mercy missions' where we went supplies down from the Luck's Gamble to the planet's surface drained us more then usual. Next time, I would appreciate it if you would notify me when you plan on such missions," Russel handed Jason the data-pad.

Lasso glanced through the data on the pad, "A pretty penny. Good thing we just got one of the biggest paid days in recent memory today."

"Our first payday in almost two months," Russel added.

"Comes with the territory," Lasso said, "This payday will keep the short timers on board a bit longer and give added insensitive to the regulars to stay. Keep the masses happy and you win as a ship captain."

"I guess so," Russel said, "Have you heard anything from Corellia or the Alliance?"

Jason shook his head, "Nope. Still nothing. And it's been five months. Maybe the whole Kingdom of Jod thing was just a nightmare and we just woke up."

"I wish it was," Russel said, "Have you tried reaching out to Commander Streets again on Rhen Var?"

"Yea," Jason said as the pair exited the gym and headed to the turbolift, "But even the Jod people with him on base don't know where the Jod went. All normal lines of communication and travel with them have been inactive. It's like the Jod just picked up and left, leaving us with a handful of their personnel as a token gift of thanks."

"Well, I hope the Jod reappear soon," Russel said as the two entered the turbolift and headed for the medical bay, "Have you heard the latest news across the HoloNet?"

"Yea," Jason said grimly, "It looks like our Rebel friends are getting the stuffing's beat out of them by the Empire. So much for the Battle of Yavin, huh?"

"Are we going to help?" Russel asked as the turbolift stopped and they exited, making their way to the medical bay.

"Once we rearm, refuel, and resupply in the Craci System, I'll look into it. There's plenty of damage we can do to the Empire in this part of the galaxy anyhow. No need in attracting the likes of Darth Vader and company near Yavin if we don't need to."

"Craci System, are you sure that's wise?" Russel asked, "Those planets will be crawling with Espos and the customs check points will be numerous in space."

"Well, it's the safest place in the CSA for us to resupply without drawing attention. And a good place for recruits. It'll be the last place the CSA or the Empire will look for us, since it's so crowded with the general public. We'll blend right in."

"In a Marauder-class Corvette armed to the teeth with military grade weaponry?" Russel asked, palming the door for entry into the medical bay and two walked in.

Lasso grinned, "You need to have more faith in me then that."

---

GAME START: ONE WEEK FROM TODAY (GAME MASTER WILL POST START OF GAME). GAME OPEN TO ON-GOING RECRUITMENT AT ALL TIMES; WE'RE ALWAYS TAKING NEW PLAYERS! POST YOUR APPROVED CHARACTER SHEETS BELOW.

 

OOG: Hey all, Bravo here! I am posting my character sheet below as an example with the new format---I know the new format can be confusing.

Name: Jason Lasso​

Call Sign: Quagmire​

Gender: Male​

Age: 29​

Species: Human​

Home World: Corellia​

Affiliation: The Mercs​

Personality​

---Traits: Punctual, inquisitive, observant; every bit the culture of a Corellian as well.​

---Likes: Staying in shape, learning and exploring new things, exploring wreckage of starships and sea vessels, studying history, hanging out with friends, playing holo games, watching holo movies, reading books (both paper and holo disk), eating carrots (and chewing gum and beef jerky), and helping people. He has also developed a taste for cigars now and then.​

---Dislikes: People with evil intent, arrogant people, liars, politics (Lasso really hates politics), and the Galactic Empire​

---Habits: Scratching his head, cracking his knuckles and fingers, rubbing his face when tired, scratching his feet with each other​

Appearance​

---Skin Color: Light​

---Height: 1.77 meters (5 feet, 10 inches)​

---Hair Color: Brown​

---Eye Color: Blue-Gray​

---Clothing:​

​

Every-day clothing:​

Black military grade cargo pants tucked into black boots with two brown blaster thigh holsters around each thigh; a brown utility belt is around the waist (the pouches came with everything, including extra energy packs, rations, water, tools and equipment, and even a gold compass). The right holster carries a S-5 heavy blaster pistol for main use, while the left holster carries a WESTAR-34 blaster pistol for last defense close range use. A forest green short-sleeve shirt covers the chest, while a brown bandolier (single strap) goes across the chest from right shoulder to just above the left hip; a knife with brown scabbard is attached to the bandolier near the upper right chest. A small scabbard, intended for a lightsaber hilt, sits on the left hip for an easy draw, but is currently empty. A jacket like this (without the puffed up neck roll collar) covers the torso further (the "Merc Symbol" could be seen on the right shoulder arm, the Old Jedi Order symbol on the left arm, and the Novahawk---Rebel Privateers--- on the left front mid flap of the coat); blue sunglasses covers the eyes, but are currently put safely away on a added pouch on the utility belt. A brown leather covered PAC20 visual wrist comlink was on the left forearm, build into the black phrik-armored wristband gauntlet, which were on both forearms. A pair of brown tactical fingerless gloves were folded away on the right side of the belt in front, an additional brown C1 personal comlink being in a small pouch on the left side of the belt. For good measure, a A280 blaster rifle could be scrapped across his back, although this was done without the jacket in place. If the jacket was in place, the A280 blaster rifle was carried by hand or shouldered by the strap. Lasso only carried the A280 blaster rifle when he knew he needed the extra firepower and was rarely seen outside of a known combat situation (aka it wasn't usually seen, unless needed).​

​

Starfighter Suit:​

A standard Rebel Flight Suit (all the gear and equipment with it) black in color; the shoulders of the flight suit were yellow, as was the flak vest, life support box, and webbing. A S-5 heavy blaster pistol was holstered around the right thigh with a black holster, while the pistol flares (see "Behind the scenes" on Rebel Flight Suit) could be attached to the barrel of the blaster pistol and used. A survival knife is attached to the left thigh in a black scabbard.​

The helmet was in two colors: black on the right side of the helmet and yellow on the left side of the helmet. The visor was black in color. On either side of the front of the helmet just above the visor were the words QUAGMIRE, the first 4 letters in italic yellow words on the right side of the helmet and the last 4 words in italic black words on the left side of the helmet. On either side of the helmet is a picture of a cartoon-looking bird hitting a cliff wall, the picture being in various colors; the bird is white, with its startled face looking out towards the viewer of the picture with large white eyes and black pupils; its yellow beak is open in shock as its body hits the brown cliff. With feathers flying in all directions, the bird's feet are yellow. The background of the picture is a white circle background in which the picture is contained.​

​

Extreme Encounter Suit (EES):​

Rarely used and only when needed. Imagine here. Modifications described below:​

• The torso and arm armor (hands, arms, shoulders, chest, mid-section down to belt) would remain the same. Armor would be the same Batsuit mix ("...bodysuit is made of hardened kevlar plates on titanium-dipped tri-weave fibers and is broken into multiple pieces of armor over a more flexible bodysuit for greater mobility." [1]) Add in there that the kevlar plates have been upgraded to blaster armor that is equal in ratio, weight, and protection that the kevlar would be to bullets. Also add in there that the titanium-dipped tri-weave fibers and kevlar equal blaster armor have been laced with Cortosis-weave armor.

• The groin armor, leg armor, and boots would remain the same (and be upgraded where applicable to equal blaster armor) and feature Cortosis-weave armor.

• Keep the cape, remove any Bat Symbols or other Batman related themes, and have cape be Armorweave.

Removing​

1. Remove the Bat Symbol across the chest and leave blank. Also, remove blades in gauntlets and leave just black.
2. Remove the Bat Belt and replace with a similar looking all black belt with no symbols.
3. Remove the helmet

Adding

• An Imperial Stormtrooper body glove under the armor.

Helmet

• The helmet would be as close to head forming as possible with the specs of an Imperial Stormtrooper helmet (see Stormtrooper armor). Everything has been reduced in size on the helmet (no bulky filters as with the stormtrooper helmet). Although this reduction in size has cost the helmet, in that, everything that the stormtrooper helmet can do is cut by 50% in length of time by the smaller versions in my suit's helmet.
• The helmet would look like the "Lost in Space" Battle Armor, without the rivet look, and instead have a smooth looking surface.
• The helmet's "eyes" would be yellow in color.
• The communication system would have the familiar Stormtrooper filter noise while speaking to the outside world.

Equipment

(Note: Based off of Stormtrooper Armor, with additions)​

• 2 high-tension wires
• 2 grappling hooks
• 4 spare power packs (E-11 Blaster Rifle)
• 2 spare power packs (WESTAR-34 blaster pistol)
• A spare handheld black C1 personal comlink
• 2 Smoke grenades
• 1 Stun grenade
• 1 Subsonic grenade
• 1 Combat de-ionizer
• 3 Stormtrooper rations
• 3 Water Packs
• 1 Medpac

Weapons

• 1 E-11 blaster rifle
• 1 S-5 heavy blaster pistol and 1 WESTAR-34 blaster pistols (black hip holsters along both outside thighs)
• 1 Combat Knife (In black holster, upside down---with handle downwards instead of upwards---below right shoulder)
• 1 throwing knife on upper part of left gauntlet (in a build-in scabbard for the knife in the gauntlet)
• 2 Lightsabers (green blade)

Coloring

• Whole Armor; would have a gray color scheme (see "Warm / Cool gray," bottom gray color in the right box)
• Left Shoulder and Left Breast (Chest); a checker scheme of black and yellow boxes would cascade down (not like a waterfall, but in a designed formal way) from where the left shoulder and neck are, across the front and width and side of the left shoulder, down the side armor of the shoulder, then down on the left breast of the armor, ending just under the left breast.
• Helmet; yellow eyes (as already stated above) with whole helmet same gray color as the rest of the armor.
• Cape is black.
• Boots are the gray armor color.
• Holsters, scabbards, and belts are black.

Special Ability

• The armor suit can function as a starfighter flight suit
• Like with stormtrooper armor, can survive in the vacuum of space (but only for 10 minutes, not 20 minutes)
• Helmet features an advanced HUD device for the user (imagine here)

---Other Attributes: Is athletically fit and weighs in at 236 pounds. He has an athletic build and stays in shape.​

---Other Details: His hair is cut to a fade style haircut.​

Weapons: See clothing above.​

​

Skills (NEW!!!)​

​

---Primary Skill: Starfighter Piloting​

---Secondary Skill: Soldier; good at shooting, squad level combat, and infantry tactics, as well as hand-to-hand combat.​

---Life Experience:​

1. Capital Ship Command
2. Martial Arts
3. Mechanic and/or "Handy Man"

Education (NEW!!!)​

---General Education: Corellian High School graduate, some Corellian private university and community college experience​

---Specialized Education: Corellian Fire Academy​

​

Flaws / Limitations (NEW!!!)​

----Physical: Has right shoulder problems due to an old weight lifting injury / neck problems due to an old injury as well (will often get a painful stiff neck and shoulder).​

----Mental: Memory loss due to a starfighter accident​

---Emotional: Loss of family to an Imperial Stormtrooper raid; can become very unreasonable around that memory. The loss of his family often drives him to very dangerous limits in terms of combat and he does not think clearly.​

---General: Took a considerable amount of time away from martial arts and weight lifting; is not very polished in martial arts and is very rusty.​

---Character Critical Failure: Inability to swim (or hold breath) with any good functionality for any length of time. The inability to swim well can lead to his death if he is not assisted.​

​

Starship​

---Name: Sweetheart​

---Class: T-65 X-Wing Starfighter​

---Speed: 100 MGLT​

---Hull Rating: Stock model​

---Shields: Stock model​

---Ejection System: Yes​

---Life Support: Yes​

---Hyperdrive Class: Class 1.0​

---Weapon(s): Stock model​

---Crew: 1 Pilot, 1 R2-series astromech droid ("Dude"; yellow primary color, replaces the "white" in the link, and gray dome and black secondary color, replaces the "blue" color in link)​

---Passenger(s): 0​

---Max Cargo (kg): 110kg​

---Interior Description: Stock model​

---Other Details: Black fuselage from the engines to the half way point of the canopy, with yellow taking over from the half way point of the canopy to the nose. The wings are black on the half way point to the aft part of the wings and yellow on the half way point to the forward part of the wings. The laser cannons would be a alternating color between the four cannons of all black for two of them and all yellow for the other two, each color being diagonal and opposite of the other color. On the forward part of the starfighter to the nose of the starfighter, on either side, would be the front half of a dire-cat in full color with claws out-stretched, mouth open with teeth and drool showing, in an attacking position facing towards the nose of the starfighter.​

The Force​

---Sensitivity: Force-sensitive​

---Religion: Jedi​

---Lightsaber​

-----Crystal(s): From Ilum​

-----Blade(s): 2​

-----Color(s): Green​

-----Handle Description(s): 2, N/A​

---Force Abilities: Level One (see "Force Chart" in Quick Reference)​

---Force Weakness: Lack of experience and official training; "rogue and rough" in his skills.​

---Other Force Object(s): N/A​

Biography​

---Personal History: Jason Lasso was born on Corellia to middle class parents. After graduation from high school, Lasso tried to enter the Imperial Academy to become a TIE Fighter Pilot, which was his dream. When his dreams were cut short even before he had the option to apply for the Imperial Academy, the eighteen year-old went into the Fire Academy to pursue a career in the Fire Service. After six years in the fire service, he went in a new direction: college. After some college and the fire service experience, Lasso tried a new direction: mercenary.​

​

Although it may seem a radical change, from fire fighter to mercenary, Lasso's journey wasn't without preparation. With the beating heart of a starfighter pilot still deep within, the young man always wanted to chase after the stars; he wasn't fully happy towards the later years in the fire service, there was something missing, something deep down inside of him, that he wasn't doing. After a journey of almost two years in which the young Lasso traveled the galaxy and worked in his career field, he picked up experience in martial arts, which he put a great deal of effort into; he also started studies into a high school-born obsession of studying galactic history, which he had many sleepless nights over study books of galactic history. After almost two years had come about, Lasso realized that at some point his fire career was more routine, more like a job and forced labor, than it was his dream anymore. Once the fun had left him for his career, he decided to go in a new direction.​

​

After his family was murdered at the hands of Imperial Stormtroopers, Jason Lasso fled from Corellia in part of rumors that the Empire was now looking for him and in part because of fear. He was aided by the secret anti-Imperial Corellian spy organization known as The Orginzation (who his father worked for and why his parents were killed) during his escape and early direction to the mercenary organization known as The Mercs, but it would be some months before the young Jason Lasso joined up with the Mercs.​

​

When Lasso finally ended up at Port Haven to meet these Mercs, after several months of filling his thirst for revenge against the Empire for his parents' deaths, young Lasso was able to impress a certain man by the name of Rick Taller. It turned out this Rick Taller fellow was the leading officer, the Captain, of a small mercenary squadron of pilots known as The Mercs. The older and experienced Taller was willing to give Lasso a shot at his dream of becoming a starfighter pilot in exchange for one promise: that Lasso would survive past his first mission. Lasso would come to respect that line from the old man, learning from his own experience as a mercenary pilot---however limited it was at the time---that surviving every mission was the challenge, not just getting past the first mission.​

​

As of the Battle of Watava in 3 months before the Battle of Yavin, Lasso was a young flight lead with the Mercs, being with them only for several months at that point. A accidental study of a mysterious rock known as the Red Rock would propel the Mercs and Lasso into a ensuring 3 month fight for their lives against the Empire, mysterious "Beast Forces," the Galactic Treasure Hunters, rogue Rebel fractions within the Rebel Alliance, and a encounter with the mysterious and thought mythical government known as the Kingdom of Jod. Lasso would form close relationships with both Winterkill and Havah Jeth during this time, the latter trying to kill him during this time period.​

​

Also during the 3 months after Watava, Jason would almost die and be saved by "The Whites," be awaken to his Force abilities while aboard a Imperial Star Destroyer and trying to escape, face the Mercs' arch enemy in ISB Investigator Hilick Soal and be tortured by him to the point of near-breaking, only to find inner strength and purpose through it and realize that Hilick Soal had a vision----and a purpose to torturing Jason Lasso---to bring down the Galactic Empire, if not through Hilick personally, but through the will of the Force.​

​

Lasso would serve in countless engagements with the Mercs during the 3 months before 0 BBY, including:​

• Watava
• Octagon on Port Haven
• A space battle above Port Haven
• A Imperial trap in a destroyed Rebel Alliance fleet's debris
• The events of Asteroid One
• Imperial Supply Base mission against the Imperial Star Destroyer Terminator
• Rescue of Winterkill after the Imperial Supply Base
• Escape from a Victory-class Star Destroyer above the same planet and introduction of Doctor Russel Cook to the Mercs
• Defense of the Johnny Boy against Commando Droids
• Defense of the Johnny Boy against hidden explosives by Imperial agents
• Mission to capture the "Last Battle of the Red Rock Kingdom," also known as the Imperial Convoy Mission (where he was saved by "The Whites" just before death)
• The Imperial trap of King Alex "the Just"
• The Block
• The evacuation of the Planet of Exile
• Battle of Port Haven

Lasso also served with the Jod Military Forces briefly in the King's Army during the Jod Civil Warin 0 BBY as a King's Army Soldier.​

​

After returning from Hilick Soal's torture between the Block and the evacuation of the Planet of Exile (the stint with the Jod Military Forces was after the Block and before the Planet of Exile), Captain Taller (who lost his legs at Patch-4) hands over command of the Mercs and their beloved command ship, the Johnny Boy, to Lasso after seeing the fighting desire to continue Taller's quest for justice against the Galactic Empire.​

​

---Military History: Mercenary work only​

​

---Traumatic Experiences: Receiving word that his family was killed by Imperial Stormtroopers when information was linked to his family aiding the Rebel Alliance; the loss of a good friend in fellow fire fighter Steven Neil, near death during the Imperial Convoy Mission, and torture at the hands of Hilick Soal.​

 

GM Approved.

Name: Sunri Lasca​

Gender: Male​

Age: 22​

Species: Human​

Home World: Alsakan​

Affiliation: The Mercs​

Personality​

---Traits: Kind, hard worker, somewhat quiet​

---Likes: His homeworld, fencing, building things, Corellian food, and modifying his fighter​

---Dislikes: Empire, Coruscant (Sunri is from Alsakan), thieves​

---Habits: Fidgeting with his lightsaber, flying for relaxation, reading in quiet times​

Appearance​

---Skin Color: Light​

---Hair Color: Black​

---Eye Color: Hazel​

---Clothing:​

Standard: Sunri's standard outfit typically is composed of a grey jacket, overlaying a blue shirt, with brown military fatigues and boots completing the main outfit. A strap across his chest holds a DC-15A blaster on his back when it is needed. More typically though, he merely carries a DH-17 blaster pistol in a hip holster, with his lightsaber on the other hip.​

Pilot: A blue-white pilot suit. Sleeker than Rebel or Imperial pilot suits, it is made of a more resistant material to make up for the lack of padding. Helmet has orange streaks on the top and sides, while the suit itself is blue with white stripes. The one modification is a holster for Sunri's lightsaber or blaster.​

---Other Attributes: Slim, but well-built. Relies on agility, either in ground or space combat.​

---Other Details: N/A​

Weapons:​

1x DC-15A Blaster Rifle (modified with a sniper scope) ​

1x DH-17 Blaster Pistol​

1x Lightsaber​

Skills ​

---Primary Skill: Mechanic​

---Secondary Skill: Piloting​

---Life Experience: Fencing, hand-to-hand fighting​

Education ​

---General Education: Alsakan School System at various levels.​

---Specialized Education: Pilot training, and mechanical training​

Flaws / Limitations ​

----Physical: While able to carry a large amount of weight (i.e. the DC-15) Sunri can't translate that into a fight as he lacks the training. ​

----Mental: Doesn't know much about the galaxy outside the Core. Somewhat naive as a result.​

---Emotional: Sunri's girlfriend was killed by an Imperial raid on a Rebel cell. By extension, he is very distrusting of both the Alliance and Empire, and is known to react violently to Imperial attacks.​

---General: While Sunri knows how to fight hand-to-hand, his lack of formal training leaves him at a loss against experienced fighters.​

---Character Critical Failure: Can't hold his breath for long periods. If he runs out of oxygen in his flight suit, or while swimming, (or any other situation) he panics. Result of nearly drowning at a younger age.​

Starship​

---Name: Long Strider​

---Class: Aurek-class Tactical Strikefighter (heavily modified)​

---Speed: 160 MGLT​

---Hull Rating: Reinforced from standard​

---Shields: Modified Standard (roughly equivalent to a late-model Z-95)​

---Ejection System: Equipped​

---Life Support: Equipped​

---Hyperdrive Class: Class 2​

---Weapon(s):​

2x Heavy Laser Cannon​

2x Proton Torpedo Launcher (6 Torpedoes)​

---Crew: 1 Pilot​

---Passenger(s): None​

---Max Cargo (kg): 20​

---Interior Description: Stock​

---Other Details: The red stripes on a stock Aurek have been changed to a light blue, with a
single orange stripe running across the center from one side to the other.​

The Force​

---Sensitivity: Force Sensitive​

---Religion: None (as of yet)​

---Lightsaber​

-----Crystal(s): Orange Adgean focusing crystal, Rubat augmentation crystal​

-----Blade(s): One​

-----Color(s): Orange​

-----Handle Description(s): Curved hilt​

---Force Abilities: Base​

---Force Weakness: Unable to use his abilities due to lack of training.​

---Other Force Object(s): N/A​

Biography​

---Personal History: Born on Alsakan in the waning days of the Clone Wars, Sunri was raised in a normal home on the city-world. He would spend his days going to school, while nursing a love for flying. It wasn't unusual for the young Sunri to 'borrow' his mother's speeder and take it on joy rides through the skylanes of Alsakan.​

Because of this, he had plans to apply to the (drastically cut-down) Alsakani defense forces, and even bought a surplus DC-15A blaster to practice with. However, these plans were soon cut short. On one of his joyrides, Sunri saw a flight of Imperial TIE Bombers go above him, and heard an explosion as they dropped their payload. Their target had been a cell of confirmed Rebels...but collateral damage included Sunri's young girlfriend, who had happened to be nearby at the time.​

As a result of this, he began to nurse a strong hatred towards the Empire, and distrust towards the Rebels. Instead of joining his homeworld's defense forces, he found an antique starship seller, and bought an ancient Aurek-class fighter. Using his gift for mechanics, Sunri repaired the old fighter, and heavily modified it. If he couldn't get back at the Empire legally, and refused to join the Alliance...he was going to use this fighter to do what he could. And when he eventually finished doing modernizing his Aurek, Sunri left Alsakan. Eventually, (and after stealing an R3 unit called R3-S6 (Sleek)) he would stumble on someone who was willing to help him in his goals...the Mercs.​

---Military History: N/A​

---Traumatic Experiences: The death of his girlfriend, that would propel him into joining the Mercs.​

 

GM APPROVED!​

​

Name: Sydney Ayres
Gender: Male
Age: 58
Species: Human
Home World: Druckenwell
Affiliation: Independent

Personality​

1. ---Traits: Meticulous, honorable, good-natured
2. ---Likes: Machines, Solving Problems
3. ---Dislikes: People, Large Bureaucracies
4. ---Habits: Often refers to machines as “children"
5. Appearance
6. ---Skin Color: Pale
7. ---Hair Color: Shaggy and disheveled hair
8. ---Eye Color: Green
9. ---Clothing: Dark green work coveralls, often stained with grease, black work boots with durasteel toe, black bandanna wrapped around head to keep sweat out of his eyes and safety goggles.
10. ---Other Attributes: 6’1’’ tall.
11. ---Other Details:
12. Weapons: Blastech Mark V Carbine
13. Skills (NEW!!!)
14. ---Primary Skill: Mechanic
15. ---Secondary Skill: Spaceship Systems
16. ---Life Experience: Electronics Repair, Basic First Aid, Scrap Metal Salvage
17. Education (NEW!!!)
18. ---General Education: II Avali High School, Druckenwell
19. ---Specialized Education: Rothana Machinists Union
20. Flaws / Limitations (NEW!!!)
21. ----Physical: Walks with a slight limp from a training accident in his youth. Has a mechanical leg below the right knee.
22. ----Mental: Enjoys machines for their straightforwardness. Has a hard time trusting people due to him being laid off by Rothana Heavy Engineering years earlier.
23. ---Emotional: Suffered a traumatic zero-g training accident while working at the shipyards above Rothana.
24. ---General: Not the best marksmen in the galaxy.
25. ---Character Critical Failure: Inability to run

​

Biography
---Personal History:​

Sydney Ayres rebelled against his family’s expectations and headed off world where he entered into a trade school on Rothana. Always loving to work with his hands, Ayres excelled in school where he learned the trade of a machinist and upon completion of the program found employment with Rothana Heavy Engineering.

Decades passed and Sydney Ayres rose up the ranks of the blue collar ladder at Rothana Heavy Engineering, occasionally butting heads with senior management over his methodical, precise, and unorthodox work ethic. This work ethic was often at odds with the upper echelon employees at Rothana Heavy Engineering and the only thing preventing Ayres from being fired from his job was his dedication in meeting deadlines set forth by the company and his creative vision for the future, a future that looked incredibly grim as the Clone Wars loomed.​

Sydney Ayres lost his job when the Clone Wars concluded. In the ensuing years, Ayres wandered from mechanic shop to mechanic shop, angry and bitter at the corporate world for terminating him just when he was on the cusp of securing benefits. Never quite at home in the world of small business, Ayres grew increasingly isolated in his later years, often times wasting his time in dive bars throughout the galaxy, reminiscing about his glory days with the company.

The rise of the Galactic Empire and their subsequent use of several vessels of Rothana Heavy Engineering origin, vessels that Ayres had once proudly called his own, sent the older machinist into a frenzy. Putting aside his alcoholic tendencies, Ayres resolved that if the Empire was going to use his ideas, his blood, sweat, and tears without providing compensation for his services, then they were going to pay.

Pay with their lives.​

 

GM Approved.

Name: Masha Tinovorsh
Callsign: Edge
Gender: Female
Age: 24
Species: Human
Home World: Danoor
Affiliation: The Mercs


Personality
---Traits: Deadpan speaking voice, mostly honest and straightforward, sarcastic sense of humor, outwardly unemotional, anxiety, and pessimism. Equally social and anti-social.
---Likes: Tabac, music, art, wine, reading, flying, competent leadership, calm settings, and computers.
---Dislikes: Thugs, cruelty, nightmares, seeing death, incompetent leaders, bureaucracy, slavery, and politicians.
---Habits: Repression of emotions, anxiety, and memories. Masking her pessimism with sarcastic humor. Smoking and drinking. Singing to herself when she (thinks or is) alone.


Appearance

---Skin Color: slightly tanned caucasian
---Hair Color: Maroon/auburn
---Eye Color: Green
---Clothing:

Her flight suit is a dark red set of flight coveralls (similar to the pictured set in the link.) Sporting a patch of the Mercs on the left shoulder, and a patch of the Blade Dancer's insignia on her right shoulder, everything aside from the patches, visor, and flight suit is dark grey (helmet with dark blue visor, gloves, boots, webbing.)
Insignia:

(Note it's the white circle, sword, and wings only.)
---Other Attributes: 5'10", average athletic build, short and layered bob haircut.
---Other Details: Looks a few years younger than her age.

Weapons:
DH-17 Carbine
Combat knife
(Sans the UNSC symbol)


Skills
---Primary Skill: Starfighter Pilot
---Secondary Skill: Novice slicer/programmer
---Life Experience:
1. Artist (who says a Merc can't be a painter, poet, or songwriter? More in Bio)
2. Military flight strategy, formations, and maneuvers. (Mastered basics, generally knowledgable with intermediate, and novice in advanced and unconventional maneuvers and strategy.)
3. Slicing and electronics, while not able to slice into more than public terminals, locked doors, or certain types of computer mainframes; Masha does understand the basics of slicing into a simple or poorly protected system. Partially lucky, partially skilled when dealing with programming and wiring of machines/equipment.


Education
---General Education: The education system wasn't great on Danoor, thus she isn't 'book smart.' From age 16-20 was a pilot's apprentice while secretly pursuing her real interests of art and technology.


---Specialized Education: Military Pilot's Apprenticeship, which is a very long and well integrated program to shape the future of the Danoor planetary defense force. Only the well connected children of military pilots could get into the programs, thus giving her what some might mistake as a natural ability to fly. Danoor Planetary Defense Flight Academy, this teaches the basics of flight, as well as 0 gravity maneuvering, maneuvers in atmosphere, basic/intermediate strategy, formations, and maneuver. Only touching on the intermediate levels as those will be learned within the new pilot's home squadron; the advanced courses are for veterans, ace pilots, and flight leaders.


Flaws / Limitations
----Physical: While in good shape and health, she doesn't train for sustained ground combat, and therefore isn't as physically strong as a soldier would be. Her workout regimen is to maintain her ability to be a pilot, giving her good physical appearance, condition, and endurance; despite her penchant for drinking and smoking. Her anxiety issues usually manifest physically, causing her to tremble, become weak from an adrenaline rush, or feel short of breath/nauseous.


----Mental: Going AWOL from Danoor's Military, she never truly learned what life in a fleet is like, leadership qualities, or to identify ships properly. She also is in need of practice with intermediate maneuvers and to learn advanced techniques/strategy. Unconventional maneuvers are a mystery to Masha.


---Emotional: The devastation of Danoor has left her emotionally scarred, while not able to explicitly recall the events, as she was only a baby, she has become an emotionally inward person, struggling to mask her anxiety and pessimism from her new colleagues. Generally these are triggered by a feeling of hopelessness (i.e. being in a one on one battle against an advanced opponent, or outnumbered/outgunned), the sight of dead bodies, or seeing someone in pain or suffering. The battle of Port Haven has caused repressed memories to surface, she began to have nightmares of the destruction of Danoor, her mother, battles she has yet to face, and the lives she's taken.


---General: In response to her problems she developed an addictive personality. She has always been one to hide her emotions, being an introvert, however she isn't antisocial. On average she is good in a ground firefight, as long as it isn't a sustained battle. She is used to "soldier talk," of women, money, alcohol, etc. but hates when the more illicit talk is directed towards her, not outwardly responding unless she has become really irritated by it.


---Character Critical Failure: Being in a fist fight, although her knife might help her get away or get a lucky shot in. She's not weak but won't be able to last long without help and would be bested eventually. In a gun fight Masha would last, as long as it's not prolonged and overly physically demanding. In very extreme circumstances she could become catatonic if there is an excess of death and destruction.


Starship

---Name: Blade Dancer
---Class: Variant Z-95 Headhunter
---Speed: 120 MGLT (slightly faster than an X-wing) 1,150 km/hr in atmosphere
---Hull Rating: Titanium Alloy
---Shields: Chempat "Defender" deflector shield generator
---Ejection System: None, crash webbing installed
---Life Support: Equipped
---Hyperdrive Class: 1.0
---Weapon(s): 4 Triple Blasters and a concussion missle launcher
---Crew: 1
---Passenger(s): None
---Max Cargo (kg): 85 kg
---Interior Description: Single pilot, small storage behind the seat backing, and blaster holster next to the seat back for easy access in any mishap. Communication, radar, and IFF/targeting systems equipped.
---Other Details: Dark red hull color with Blade Dancer written in black letters near the cockpit's canopy in letters not large enough to see clearly in space. S-foils as pictured.


Biography
---Personal History: Born 25 BBY on Danoor to a mother whom lived in one of the larger colonies selling goods from farms surrounding in the the areas, her father a transportation pilot between the colonies. The devastation caused by the rogue asteroid claimed the life of her mother, as well as half a million others in the wake of destruction from the floods, quakes, and ash clouds which followed. Her mother sacrificed her own life to allow her father to save their only child. The new central government had her father to be conscripted into the planetary defense force to train with other pilots. Leaving her to be raised primarily by her surviving relatives until she was old enough to be taken care of by her father, whom spent most of his time away from home.

Though her father had never flown a small fighter before he adapted quickly. He fought off small pirate raids during the rebuilding process, eventually settling in to becoming an instructor to train the next generations of pilots. Having been a founding member of the Space Corps and eventually the commander of the flight school, he was able to easily get Masha into the apprentice program, and then into the flight school.

As an apprentice pilot, Masha never truly focused on flight, the basics came easily enough to her but her interests lay elsewhere. While most of the young apprentices were studying furiously and logging extra hours in the simulators, she didn't want life to pass her by and she frequently spent time she should be studying doing research, reading, and learning about computers and technical systems. In contrast to her introverted nature, when she could, she'd sneak out to what few low key clubs she could to learn music and song writing. She always held a secret interest in art, even more so than computers.

She neared the end of her apprenticeship at age 20. After 4 long years of classes, exams, simulators, and flight crew hours she was inducted into flight school. She wasn't an upstart about being well connected, more so she felt guilty that she just didn't care enough about becoming an amazing fighter pilot like her father. Feeling as if she owed him nothing, having never truly been there for her.

She never met the high expectations of her instructors, demanding only the best as her father's instructors had demanded of them. Graduating as one of the more average students at age 23 she was inducted into the 4th Space Wing, which is to say, not that impressive. Rather it's just where they figured she belonged, with the average pilots and reservists. Her father pulled his weight and gave her his old Z-95 Headhunter upon entering her squadron.

A few months after her induction into the squadron her father died of health complications brought on by the stress of his life, Masha attended the funeral and as he was lowered into the ground she promised herself that she would become a better pilot than she had set herself up to be. Taking her father's famous craft, which she named Blade Dancer after his call sign, she went AWOL and left to find her own path to greatness.

Upon finding The Mercs she was thrown into an intense conflict she feels she was miraculously able to survive, Masha is still haunted by her first taste of real battle. The chaos, death, and destruction had awakened emotions she couldn't comprehend and continues to struggle with. Although becoming more comfortable with the Mercs she works with and growing respect for their leadership, she still keeps herself on guard, not letting herself be too open around them.


---Military History: Pilot's apprentice from age 16-20, flight academy age 20-23, and searching for mercenary work from 23-24. Mostly finding uneventful escort missions for low value targets, until happening upon the Mercs.


---Traumatic Experiences: The earliest traumatic events were the death of her mother and the destruction of Danoor caused by the asteroid, though she can't recall it she has implicit memories of the event causing her to be emotionally shut in, while not traumatic she feels lifelong abandonment from her father. The battle over Port Haven strikes at her mind having been her first real battle, carrying the guilt of lives she's taken, and continues to do so with whatever new battles she faces. Masha continues to push herself, hiding her emotions and trying not to be a burden on the rest of the crew.

 

ATTENTION ALL PLAYERS AND STAFF

The Intervention (Quick Reference) has received a major update today to help our new and returning players navigate the game's extensive history and information!

 

GM Approved

Name: Beskaryc Taab
Call Sign: Iron Hand
Gender: Male
Age: 50
Species: Human (Mandalorian)
Home World: Manda'yaim/Concordia
Affiliation: Bounty Hunter/Mercs

Personality

---Traits: Is generally quiet and uncaring for those around him save for his own family.
---Likes: Hard work, soldiering
---Dislikes: Laziness, politics
---Habits: Hums to himself. Eats spicy warra nuts when waiting or bored.

Appearance





---Skin Color: Light
---Height: 1.88 meters (6 feet, 2 inches)
---Hair Color: gray/silver but shaved down to the scalp
---Eye Color: Brown
---Clothing: Mandalorian beskar armor.


Weapons: Normally carries a blaster carbine and two holstered Westar blaster pistols. Armor is outfitted with an array of other weapons including a flame projector, wrist rockets, poison darts, various blades and blasters and of course the traditional jetpack with warhead launcher.

Skills (NEW!!!)

---Primary Skill: Bounty Hunter/Soldier
---Secondary Skill: Pilot/mechanic/medic
---Life Experience:
1. Jedi Hunter/Bounty Hunter
2. Mercenary during the Clone Wars
3. Drill Sergeant for clone troopers on Kamino prior to Clone Wars

Education (NEW!!!)

---General Education: Trained to be a soldier and bounty hunter from the time he was eight years old.
---Specialized Education:

Flaws / Limitations (NEW!!!)

----Physical: Is getting older and his reaction time isn't what it used to be
----Mental: Sociopathic tendencies.
---Emotional: Is a functioning sociopath except where it comes to matters of family.
---General: Secondary skills listed are at the competency level, he is certainly no expert in these fields.
---Character Critical Failure: While certainly a competent pilot, he would quickly find himself out of his depth when flying against dedicated starfighter pilots.

Starship

---Name: Crusader
---Class: Modified YT-1300
---Speed: 75MGLT
---Hull Rating: Upgraded
---Shields: Upgraded
---Ejection System: Escape pod equipped
---Life Support: yes
---Hyperdrive Class: .75
---Weapon(s): Two forward firing Ion cannon in forward mandibles. 2 Quad laser turrets, forward warhead launchers, tractor beam. Various other concealed weapons as befitting a Mandalorian Bounty Hunting vessel.
---Crew: 1-4
---Passenger(s): 6
---Max Cargo (kg): 25 Metric tons. Most cargo space has been converted to Cells for captured bounties.
---Interior Description: Much as and other YT-1300. Aft cargo bay has been redesigned for holding four prisoners in high gravity/low atmospheric condisitons. Number 2 Hold re-purposed as a well stocked armory. Main hold contains two speeder bikes.
---Other Details: Currently on Concordia being upgraded by Taab's wife.

The Force

---Sensitivity: None
---Religion: N/A
---Lightsaber Several lightsaber trophies, one of which he normally carries with him. Note that these are trophies that he can use as tools but he not a skilled lightsaber duelist.
-----Crystal(s):
-----Blade(s):
-----Color(s):
-----Handle Description(s):
---Force Abilities: N/A
---Force Weakness: N/A
---Other Force Object(s): N/A

Biography

---Personal History: Born in 50 BBY Beskaryc was well along his way down the traditional path to becoming Mandalorian warrior. However when he was only 6 years old his father was killed at the
Battle of Galidraan. Deprived of the traditional father/son training that was to begin at age eight, Beskaryc saw his training conducted by numerous other family members and other True Mandalorian sympathizers, though it was his own mother that took on most of the burden of his training. In the end it mattered little as he achieved adulthood as most other Mandalorians did during his 13th year when he passed the verd'goten. Married two years later in 35 BBY to Ruusaan. His son Adenn was born five years later in early 30 BBY. Daughter Prudii was born in 20 BBY. Adopted son Marcus(renamed Atin) in 5 BBY

---Military History: Following his passing of the verd'goten Taab found work as an enforcer for the Banking Clans. He went on to establish himself as an effective collector of outstanding debts for the group. His duties also saw him putting down Union riots by various the guilds, though when he could find it he took on work as a straight mercenary. He preferred "real soldiering" to bounty hunting, or clubbing civilians.

Remembering the service of Taab's father, Jango Fett asked him to join the Cuy'val Dar in 30 BBY. Taab jumped at the chance to train soldiers and found himself working with the Republic Commandos on Kamino. When the Clone Wars started just eight years later he left Kamino and joined a small group of Mandalorian mercenaries who called themselves the Crusaders. His eight year old son son joined him to begin his own training. At that time Taab used the money he had saved up from his time as a training sergeant on Kamino to buy the Crusader, from which the small group of mercenaries operated.

An apolitical person, Taab didn't care which side of the conflict he was working for at any given time, so long as he was paid. Thus the Crusaders who numbered anywhere from 4 to 8 members depending on the time fought in many battles during the clone wars. Often employed as commandos themselves they worked for both sides of the conflict on a series of short term contracts. Thus it was at the end of the war the Crusaders were working with the Republic on Kashyyyk. When Master Yoda went missing following the "Jedi rebellion" they joined the search, though they were not surprised when the Jedi master gave them all the slip. Subsequently the group broke up, with Beskaryc and his son keeping the Crusader. This they modified for the purpose of hunting the Jedi who had survived Order 66.

For much of the next decade the two worked together, bringing many stray Jedi to justice. Though Adenn would eventually go off to start his own family, and find his own work. Taab continued to
hunt Jedi on his own, and while he was successful, he never earned the notoriety of Boba Fett. With Jedi becoming harder and harder to find, and his own distaste for bounty hunting work, Taab took on a job fighting for one of the factions of the Civil war on the Southern Continent of Ranklinge. There he found Marcus. Impressed by the boy's survival at such a young age, and remembering the death of his own father, Taab adopted him and renamed him Atin. He began to take on odd jobs, trying to prepare Atin for a life as a Mandalorian. Hired muscle for a bank robbery, VIP protection on various worlds, targeted assassinations, they did it all. Now Atin's training is almost complete, and Taab has found them one last job before Atin's training will be complete, mercenary work with the Mercs.

---Traumatic Experiences: None

---

Name: Atin Taab (originally Marcus, but he never knew his last name)
Call Sign: Scorch
Gender: Male
Age: 15
Species: Human (Mandalorian)
Home World: Ranklinge
Affiliation: Mercs
Personality

---Traits: Eager to please his father and prove himself at all costs
---Likes: Flying, getting things right the first time
---Dislikes: Failure, injustice
---Habits: When not wearing his helmet wears an old beret on his head, a trophy from the SouthCont Civil War.

Appearance






---Skin Color: Light
---Height: 1.77 meters (5 feet, 10 inches)
---Hair Color: Brown
---Eye Color: Brown
---Clothing: Mandalorian armor. Durasteel plates instead of traditional beskar.

Weapons: Normally carries a Verpine shatter rifle, a holstered blaster pistol. Armor is outfitted with an array of other weapons including a flame projector, wrist rockets, poison darts, various blades and blasters and of course the traditional jetpack with warhead launcher.

Skills (NEW!!!)

---Primary Skill: Pilot
---Secondary Skill: Bounty Hunter

---Life Experience:
1. Survived on his own in midst of a civil war from ages 6-10
2. Raised as a Mandalorian from age 10 to present, still in training.
3.

Education (NEW!!!)

---General Education: Trained as a Bounty Hunter/Mercenary from age 10
---Specialized Education:

Flaws / Limitations (NEW!!!)

----Physical: Only 15, still developing physically
----Mental: Tends to get excited and not think things through when under duress.
---Emotional: Gets worked up when he sees "injustice" being done
---General:
---Character Critical Failure: Inexperienced, his thought process can be quickly overwhelmed if things don't go according to plan.

Starship

---Name: Speedy Trial
---Class: A-24 Sleuth Scout
---Speed: 100 MGLT
---Hull Rating: Stock
---Shields: Stock
---Ejection System: Escape pod equipped
---Life Support: Yes
---Hyperdrive Class: 1.0
---Weapon(s): Stock (2 forward firing laser cannons)
---Crew: 1 (+1 Astromech, R2-E4, "Specialist", though often referred to as Beskar'ad)
---Passenger(s): 1
---Max Cargo (kg): 2 metric tons
---Interior Description: cargo area converted to contain a well stocked armory.
---Other Details: Security system has been fully upgraded.

The Force

---Sensitivity: None
---Religion: N/A
---Lightsaber N/A
-----Crystal(s): N/A
-----Blade(s): N/A
-----Color(s): N/A
-----Handle Description(s): N/A
---Force Abilities: N/A
---Force Weakness: N/A
---Other Force Object(s): N/A

Biography

---Personal History: Born in 15 BBY on the Southern Continent (SouthCont) of Ranklinge Marcus grew up in a standard middle class household. He didn't really know what his mother or father did for
a living, but knew that they went to work each evening and his grandfather came over to watch him while they were gone.

It was a loving household and young Marcus never knew want or fear. Until one day when he was only five years old he heard loud noises from off in the distance while his grandfather seemed glued to the holo-news. His parents didn't come home that night. His grandfather explained to him that a civil war had broken out on SouthCont, and his parents had been caught in the crossfire. Marcus didn't understand what it meant at the time, but as the days turned to weeks and everything got worse he knew that his world had changed.

His grandfather tried to protect Marcus as best he could, but he was old and had a heart condition. Within a year he too had died and Marcus was left all alone. Too young to be conscripted into the forces of one of the various factions Marcus learned to scavenge to survive. He left his home and slept in a new place every night, never bringing more with him then he needed at the moment.

He survived like that for five years, avoiding the patrols of the factions, the food gangs and other scavengers, until he was found by an armored man from whom Marcus couldn't get away. He fed
Marcus and told him how impressed he was with him for surviving this long. he also offered Marcus a way out of the death and destruction that surrounded him, a way to take charge of his own future
and ensure no one ever tried to hurt him again. Marcus agreed and from then on he was called Atin by the armored man, a man that Atin would now call father.


---Military History: Atin is nearing the end of his five years of training with his father. Most Mandalorian children begin training with their fathers at age eight and take the verd'goten at age thirteen. But Atin wasn't found and adopted until he was already ten. With the late start to his training, Atin wouldn't be ready until he was at least 15. His father has been training him in various jobs, trying to prepare Atin for a life as a Mandalorian. They have acted as hired muscle for bank robberies, VIP protection on various worlds, targeted assassinations, and so on. Now Atin's training is almost complete, and Taab has found them one last job before Atin's training will be complete, mercenary work with the Mercs.


---Traumatic Experiences: The loss of his parents at such a young age coupled with the conditions thereafter have made a lasting mark on Atin.

---

Note: I list several secondary skills for the elder Taab, but as noted those secondary skills are at the competency level and would all be things an experienced bounty hunter should know. He certainly won't be out there performing surgeries or anything like that, but he should be able to patch a wound or even set a bone, as well as maintain his own ship.

 

GM Approved:

Name: Kilo "Papa Zulu" Typhon
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Species: Human
Home World: Atzerri
Affiliation: Mercs

Personality
---Traits: Honorable, Trustworthy, and follows all orders given. A ground-fighting tactical specialist and a learning pilot.
---Likes: Weapons, fighting, learning new things, and being a sarcastic jerk.
---Dislikes: Laziness and anything slow.
---Habits: Getting into trouble

Appearance
---Skin Color: White/Tan
---Hair Color: Light brown/dirty blonde
---Eye Color: Blue
---Clothing:

---Other Attributes: Tall, well built, but not spectacularly strong.
---Other Details: The orange plates that make up his armor can be taken off, but since growing more and more comfortable in the armor he rarely takes significant portions of armor off at any time.
Weapons: DC-17M Interchangeable Weapons System, WESTAR-35 Blaster Pistol, knuckle plate vibro blade, green-bladed lightsaber obtained through the black market.

Skills
---Primary Skill: Battle tactician
---Secondary Skill: Blaster rifle marksman
---Life Experience: Flying an X-Wing, medical knowledge, and sword/lightsaber combat

Education
---General Education: Atzerri public education
---Specialized Education: Atzerri Imperial Academy ages 17 to 18, Corellia Imperial Academy ages 18 to 21. Graduated near the top of his class in every field outside of starfighter combat.

Flaws / Limitations
----Physical: While not extremely weak, he is not particularly strong. He can heft most weapons with ease, but occasionally meets his match when it comes to heavier weaponry.
----Mental: Kilo witnessed many traumatic experiences in his past and has virtually blocked them all from his memory. He is somewhat mentally unstable as a result. Seeing certain objects or sights can trigger a memory that he did not know he had.
---Emotional: Because of his traumatic fallout with the Empire, Typhon has a surprisingly passionate hatred of the entire Imperial military. Mentioned above, the traumatic memories that occasionally come back can really upset him.
---General: Kilo has struggled with starfighter combat his entire life. Even in virtual reality simulators when he was a child, he was well behind standards set for his age group. Kilo failed to improve much while enrolled with the Imperial Academy, but has since been slowly building up his skill while working with his droid, Sev, and the rest of the Mercs.
---Character Critical Failure: Even though Kilo is steadily improving himself as a fighter pilot, his skill at the art of flying and fighting anywhere off the ground is extremely lackluster.

Astromech
---Name: R4-P77 "Sev"
---Series: R4-P Series
---Appearance: Orange body with white accessing plates. (Imagine R2's body with orange instead of blue)

Starship
---Name: T-65 X-Wing Starfighter
---Class: Starfighter
---Speed: 1050km/h in atmosphere
---Hull Rating: Titanium Alloy
---Shields: Defender Deflector Shield Generator (50 SBD)
---Ejection System: No
---Life Support: Yes
---Hyperdrive Class: 1.0
---Weapon(s): Laser cannons x2, Ion cannons x2
---Crew: 1
---Passenger(s): Pilot + Droid
---Max Cargo (kg): 110
---Interior Description: Black interior with modified aftermarket upgrades installed by Kilo and his droid, Sev.
---Other Details: The entire craft is painted orange and black with markings consistent with the pattern on his armor.

The Force
---Sensitivity: Base
---Religion:
---Lightsaber
-----Crystal(s):
-----Blade(s): Single
-----Color(s): Green
-----Handle Description(s): Black with silver highlights, Kilo's lightsaber has few cosmetic improvements.
---Force Abilities: Jump, push, speed (all very weak)
---Force Weakness: All
---Other Force Object(s): None

Biography
---Personal History: Born on the small planet of Atzerri, Kilo grew up to a family of middle-class independent small-time crop farmers. When crop prices began to fall, his mother left the family business and joined the local Imperial Stormtrooper garrison as a clerical helping-hand. Shortly afterward, she was killed when Kilo was only six years old. Kilo's father immediately believed that the Empire was behind it and began to speak out against the Empire. Only a few short weeks later, Kilo was out on the farm working with his father and uncle when a canister of fertilizer exploded and killed Kilo's father. Kilo was forced to move in with his uncle and found himself in an abusive and altogether less-than-ideal home. Given only the bare minimum in every way, Kilo was forced to realize the maximum potential of every tool and utensil given to him.

After his stint with the Empire(detailed below), Kilo went on the run from Imperial forces. He fled the small unnamed planet and made his way to Atzerri. There, he stayed in his deceased Grandfather's home for a few days waiting to see if he lost the Imperial agents on his tail. He found his Grandfather's old armor and fled the planet shortly afterward when search parties found him. He and Sev made a random hyperspace jump and fled the system. Together, they dropped out of hyperspace in the middle of the Battle of the Whendyll System. Kilo had a duty to help protect a captured Merc Star Destroyer, the Delicate Delinquent, and was subsequently made part of the Mercs organization.

Since the Battle of Port Haven, Kilo has strengthened his ties with the Mercs, obtained a lightsaber, and has attempted to contact some of his old Imperial friends that he can still trust and try to lure them to his new-found group of allies - The Mercs.

---Military History: Shortly after his 17th birthday, Kilo was enrolled in the Imperial Academy of Atzerri. Run by a handful of aged and wizened veterans of the Clone Wars, Kilo found his stride when it came to fighting on the ground. One of his superiors, a former Republic Commando, realized that Kilo had the potential of being a high ranking Imperial Officer and pulled strings to transfer Typhon to the Corellian Imperial Academy. While at school, Kilo met a handful of Imperial students that he trusted with his life.

Kilo graduated near the top of his class at the Corellian Imperial Academy in every field but starfighter combat. Kilo's first known assignment was the clean-up detail of one of the largest Imperial/Rebel star-battles up to that point. One of his superiors suspected that a Rebel pilot was able to flee to a small forest moon, and Kilo was sent with a platoon of Stormtroopers to find him. They tracked the fleeing rebel down to a small village inhabited by basic but indigenous people. After hours of meticulous searching, the soldiers were ordered to burn the village to the ground and kill everyone there. Kilo realized the horrors the Empire was capable of and slipped away from the troops. He found the Rebel's hidden X-Wing starfighter not far away, jumped in, and convinced the astromech droid already aboard to leave. They barely made their escape with their lives.

---Traumatic Experiences: Witnessed the death of his father first-hand, a traumatic mission while being an Imperial officer forced him to quit the Empire and become independent.

 

GM Approved

Name: Winterkill (Qu’elwynt’r)
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Species: Nagai
Home World: Nagi
Affiliation: The Mercs (current)
Personality
---Traits: Observant, calculating, introspective, focused, mistrustful. All things are viewed under threat analysis.
---Likes: Above all things, His freedom. Training. A challenging encounter.
---Dislikes: Tofs, slavery, oppression, war.
---Habits: Trains constantly. Never stands, sits or sleeps in vulnerable areas. Prefers being in the shadows.
Appearance

---Skin Color: Pale ( white)
---Height: 5’7”
---Hair Color: Raven (black)
---Eye Color: Black
---Clothing: Form fitting training gear/ combat gear. Carries two vibro blades at all times.
---Other Attributes: Generally regarded as anti-social. Winterkill has poor interpersonal skills. However, despite being very calculating and deliberate, he is also a huge risk taker, this is a side-effect of being a war survivor.
---Other Details: Though he is first and foremost a survivor, he would never abandon someone who has earned his respect or has helped him in some way.
He also still has many scars left over his body, despite the attempts of having them ‘healed’ medically. Situationally, Winterkill will use his ‘soothing voice’ ability to affect events.
Weapons: He currently owns two vibro blades and a single vibro sword. He has lost almost all he has ever owned, which was not much to begin with.

Skills
---Primary Skill: Assassination and infiltration. During the war, Winterkill became very proficient at taking down sentries, roving patrols and infiltrating enemy camps.
---Secondary Skill: Starfighter pilot. Winterkill’s impressive reflexes and quick thinking has transformed him into an efficient, albeit often reckless starpilot.
---Life Experience: Large scale combat tactics. This is a relatively new concept to the nagai, one introduced to him by the mandalorian liberators who assisted in the defeat of the Tofs. Winterkill gravitates to anything that can help him gain advantage in battle and better take down his enemies. His time with The Mercs has opened his understanding and appreciation of such a skill.

Education
---General Education: Minimal. He was born during the Tof occupation of Nagi.
---Specialized Education: Winterkill was trained by his elders to kill, steal and infiltrate in order to survive another day. He is proficient with vibro weapons and has a keen mind for combat.

Flaws / Limitations
----Physical: Being near-human and slightly smaller in frame, Winterkill cannot disguise himself easily as someone of another species, therefore he prefers not to be seen at all. He relies on acrobatics, evasive maneuvers and deception when confronting larger and stronger opponents, who by default tend to underestimate him due to his size.
----Mental: Though literate, Winterkill is not as technologically savvy as most of his contemporaries due to his turbulent past, however, he is a very quick learner.
---Emotional: War trauma. Although he has survived his ordeals physically, under certain conditions, Winterkill may ’snap’ and find himself re-enacting ‘worst case scenarios’ of his time during the Tof occupation. Incarceration/ loss of freedom is one ‘known trigger’ to these violent episodes.
---General: Winterkill is generally a loner due to his experience as a survivor. He has very poor interpersonal skills outside of combat situations and is very unlikely to interact with others until he has assessed them first and determined their current threat level. However, that is slowly changing due to his camaraderie with Havah Jeth, who understands his secret hand signs and together, have survived many infiltration missions in the past. Jason Lasso, who continues to show by example the benefits of fighting for the good of others, and Rick Taller, who recognized his potential and took a chance by recruiting him.
Presently, Winterkill is incapable of turning down a death match. This is very specific and not readily apparent. To insult his honor or challenge him thus is the one thing he will not turn away from. Thankfully, this fact is unknown to most if not all, save perhaps a single individual. He’s also likely to assault any Tof on sight.
---Character Critical Failure: Boneworms are probably the only creatures that Winterkill fears.The Tof employed them in fighting pits and many other forms of torture. That is why Winterkill refuses to fall unconscious during missions or sleep on regular floors. The sight of a boneworm is very likely to trigger a panic attack, or worse.

Starship
---Name: N/A. His StarViper was destroyed in a mission.
---Class:
---Speed:
---Hull Rating: [Strength of hull]
---Shields:
---Ejection System:
---Life Support:
---Hyperdrive Class:
---Weapon(s):
---Crew:
---Passenger(s):
---Max Cargo (kg):
---Interior Description:
---Other Details:

The Force
---Sensitivity: None
---Religion:n/a
---Lightsaber
-----Crystal(s):
-----Blade(s):
-----Color(s):
-----Handle Description(s):
---Force Abilities:n/a
---Force Weakness:n/a
---Other Force Object(s):

Biography
---Personal History: Winterkill was one of the nagai that stayed behind on Nagi when the Tof invaded their home planet, specifically due to his young age. Raised by nagai survivors and freedom fighters, young Winterkill was groomed for stealth, infiltration and assassination. Survival was the only option. His time in a Tof concentration camp has traumatized him in ways beyond his ken. A small group of prisoners managed to escape, but the Tof would not relent. On a fateful day, both Nagai Warriors and mandaloreans arrived on Nagi to help liberate them from Tof tyranny and help end their occupation, eventually driving off the invaders. Not long after Nagi joined the Alliance, Winterkill was able to leave his homeworld for the first time and was eventually recruited by Rick Taller of The Mercs.
---Military History: Winterkill learned guerrilla warfare from nagai freedom fighters, but his greater education would come from the Mandaloreans who assisted in liberating Nagi from Tof occupation.
---Traumatic Experiences: The seemingly endless death and killings he experienced as a young freedom fighter during the Tof-Nagi War. Killing another being without remorse and surviving a concentration camp, among many other atrocities.

---

Name: Mahaben
Gender: Male
Age:47
Species:Miraluka
Home World: Coruscant
Affiliation:The Force/ The Jedi
Personality
---Traits: Patient,observant, pensive, decisive.Objective,loyal.
---Likes: Harmony, Peace, well-being. Positive results.
---Dislikes: Injustice, the darkside.
---Habits: Inquisitive. Always asking questions and seeking answers. Often strokes his beard while musing. Likes to meditate.
Appearance

---Skin Color: Tan.
---Height: 5’11”
---Hair Color: grey
---Eye Color: none (‘medically registered as blind’)
---Clothing: dark grey jedi robes.
---Other Attributes: Mahaben is a very keen listener and tends to link things together to multi-faceted events.
---Other Details: As a Miraluka, Mahaben sees auras via the force, which he constantly monitors for darkside disturbances as well as other effects. He has a standard bandage over his eyes.
Weapons: Lightsaber

Skills
---Primary Skill: Jedi Guardian. Mahaben primarily trained for combat, as that was the path of choice during the clone wars. He now views himself as a peacekeeper, which is far more challenging.
---Secondary Skill: Pilot. Being a Jedi, especially a miraluka, has certain advantages. Mahaben can sense things just before they happen, and can also see ‘beyond’ the confines of a ship’s cockpit. He prefers group work, but has proven himself as a solid and competent pilot.
---Life Experience: Mahaben has lived ‘by the sword’ most of his life, but he now sees the way of peace is what is required for the future. He has put his moderate diplomatic skills to use in a time where diplomacy is often not even an option.

Education
---General Education: Jedi Knight, Jedi Temple, Coruscant.
---Specialized Education: Clone War Era Jedi Knights have knowledge of conventional warfare and related subjects.

Flaws / Limitations
----Physical: Mahaben is not as young as he used to be, thus he uses the Force more often to compensate, match and sustain the combat prowess he’s acquired at the height of the Clone Wars. However, ‘violence’ is his absolute last resort.
----Mental: Meditation is a must for Mahaben. It keeps his connection to the force strong as well as focuses his mind in order to see things clearly and act objectively.
---Emotional: Everyone has been scarred by the Clone Wars, especially force users. Through constant meditation, Mahaben excises any recurring darkside surges within himself.
---General: Mahaben sometimes forgets that others do not see ‘the world’ as he does, and may be often surprised when certain ‘self-evident truths’ are rejected off-hand. In addition, Mahaben has an irresistible compulsion to investigate disturbances in the force. As he travels the galaxy, he is also looking out for other (if any) Jedi survivors of the Clone Wars and order 66. He could not bear to abandon any of his brethren.
---Character Critical Failure: As a Miraluka, Mahaben sees via the force. Should he somehow be cut-off from the force, he would be effectively blind on all counts. He would not be able to see at all.

Starship
---Name: None. He travels the galaxy as the Force leads him.
---Class:
---Speed:
---Hull Rating: [Strength of hull]
---Shields:
---Ejection System:
---Life Support:
---Hyperdrive Class:
---Weapon(s):
---Crew:
---Passenger(s):
---Max Cargo (kg):
---Interior Description:
---Other Details:

The Force
---Sensitivity: Yes
---Religion: Jedi
---Lightsaber
-----Crystal(s): Blue Ilum crystal, Sapith
-----Blade(s): One
-----Color(s): Blue
-----Handle Description(s):
---Force Weakness: Shroud presence. Mahaben has subconsciously made himself into a beacon in the force to attract any lost Jedi to such a degree, that he’d have a very difficult time attempting to dampen his force presence.
---Other Force Object(s):

Biography
---Personal History: Mahaben proudly served the Jedi Council as a Jedi Kight and guardian, despite his misgivings about the Clone Wars, seeing action on may battle fronts, tasting both victory and many more defeats against the separatist armies. Despite the ever increasing death tolls, he staunchly believed that even this war was the will of the Force. Then Order 66 was issued. After barely surviving a clone trooper ambush on his return from a scouting mission, where he was forced to fake his own fiery death, the miraluka spent the next few years in hiding on fringe planets, even as he sought to reconnect to the lightside of the force, especially after a very long period of meditation and wrestling with the darkside.
---Military History: Fighting for the Republic alongside brave clone troopers and beings who stood for justice was a great learning experience for the Jedi Knight, that together, they could overcome any obstacle and defeat any evil. In addition to his already considerable fighting skills, Mahaben was a natural at leading strike teams into enemy territory and achieving strategic objectives. The Clone Troopers were living example of what a truly well organized fighting unit could accomplish.
---Traumatic Experiences: Order 66. This inconceivable betrayal rocked the very foundations of Mahaben’s faith in the Jedi Order and the Republic that now branded him a traitor after his unswerving loyal service. After all the sacrifices, this was their reward. No words could describe his descent to the darkside, however, the light would never abandon its own. After a great deal of intense soul searching, the miraluka would once again see the path to the light.

 

Name: Yavscout

Merc Call Sign: Safety
Jod (if applicable) Call Sign: Surefall Lead

Gender: Male
Age: Unknown. Level 27.

Species: Elf

Family members: Neice. Samantha Irisa, human (not blood relative). Currently on Pantolomin, and part of SGIS.
Home World: Norrath
Affiliation: The Mercs. Had infiltrated group for the Secret Galactic Intelligence Service, and has now resigned his SGIS commission, as the Mercs gives him more opportunity to fight the Empire.
Also loyal to Naboo.



Personality
---Traits: Considerate, sarcastic, observant; exists to rescue.
---Likes: Helping people, wearing armour, working independently, having responsibilities, working as part of a group, feeling like he belongs in the Merc' family. Arguing with companion R2 droid, Deputy.
---Dislikes: Slavery, oppressive governments, particularly those beginning with Galactic, and ending in Empire. People hurting his friends, or persons he has taken responsibility for.
---Habits: If a rescue opportunity comes up, will pursue it to exclusion of all else. Has a biting wit when talking to some beings, and does not attempt to control it, due to living alone for so long.

Appearance
---Skin Color: Light tan, faint greenish hue
---Height: Five feet, two inches?
---Hair Color: Very very dark blue, almost black
---Eye Color: Unknown
---Clothing: When Yavscout dies, his clothes remain with his corpse, while he re-spawns naked at an unknown location determined by in-game mechanics, related to two pieces of Red Rock carried by the former Mercs leader, Captain Rick Taller.

Until such time that he can return to where he died and retrieve his effects, he is perennially short of clothing.

Every-day clothing:
Dark blue Kingdom of Jod vacsuit, with dark blue durasteel semi-armour. Related helmet always within reach. Worn in space, even aboard the Johnny Boy.
Has his duty Naboo Security S-5 heavy blaster pistol with liqui-cable and grappling spike launcher.

Casual clothing, if he feels really safe, or is on planetary shore leave:
Grey Imperial trooper trousers, black calf-length boots, the long (past his hips) white t-shirt that Kingdom of Jod Royal Lithographics had kindly printed with a circle of words reading The Mercs - SHip Intervention Team, cinched at his waist with a white stormtrooper equipment belt and E-11 blaster carbine in the black scabbard.

Yav also has a gnomeskin suit from his Norrath life, which is a head-to-foot black collection of overlapping skintight gear (belt, boots, gloves, tunic, etc.), which enhances his magical abilities, eg. adds to hit points, increases WISdom, increases Survive Poison.

http://everquest.allakhazam.com/search.html?q=gnome+skin

He wore it as the black undersuit beneath his stormtrooper armour on the Strident Haze mission, and lost it for the longest time when he died there.

The Kingdom of Jod destroyer, House of Vimal, helped him get his stuff back, after he rescued one of their pilots during the Battle of the Whendyll System. It is unlikely the elf will roll it out for just any reason. Probably folded in a drawer.

Weapons--- On the lookout for an MM9 wrist rocket launcher, or wrist-laser.

Equipment---
The SGIS' ship, Mako, brought Yav a wooden box with seven identical SGIS wristlinks. They have comlinks, holograph projectors, and most importantly, a location beacon that will lead he or them to one of his bodies, if he gets killed again.

Skillz (NEW!!!)
---Primary Skill: Rescue; Yav's raison d'etre, reason for living. His skill and training on Norrath were all designed to make him a better rescuer - Camouflage, Major Healing, Speed of Wolf, Group Emergency Teleport, Strength.

Lesser Succor (Group Emergency Teleport) is a travel spell that on Norrath, took him and a group (eg. adventurers or casualty) to designated 'safe areas' within a zone.
Obviously arriving in new locations, he or the spell won't know where the safe zones are.

Aboard the Strident Haze - you know, that ship features a lot in the elf's recent character development - in order to rescue Jedi Knight Sodalis, the elf took a few minutes to chill on a deck chair he found, to convince the spell that the frigate's engineering department was a safe area, and subsequently, on leaping from the exterior airlock to reach her outside the ship, successfully teleported her back onboard.

---Secondary Skill: Infiltration. Skills designed around scouting dangerous areas, means that he has the spells and experience to utilise to help him survive and succeed in such missions

---Life Experience:
Capital Ship Command

Martial Arts - Meridean Jitsu

Surefall Paramedic over 27 levels, and medtech with SGIS for one tour.

Volunteer starfighter pilot with Epsilon Flight of the Naboo Security Force, and the Mercs

Infiltration during a Mercs mission to an Imperial frigate frightened him quite a lot, but the experience has helped him, particularly when he managed to save a jedi. The mission gave him limited experience floating in space in a stormtrooper outfit

Scouting on Norrath - has extensive experience in polar type regions, as one, Everfrost, was close to his home.

Education (NEW!!!)
---General Education: No formal education on Norrath. You learn by practice, and completing missions to earn XP (experience points), and faction ( to make people like you)

---Specialized Education: Training with starfighter element of the Royal Naboo Security Force taught him piloting, combat, diplomacy, behaviour in royal circles.

Flaws / Limitations (NEW!!!)
----Physical: As a pureblood elf, he is physically weaker than your average adult human male. His spells augment his abilities for periods of time.
----Mental: The amnesia from how he arrived in this dimension isn't really a problem any more. What really bothers him, are the changes that Red Rock exposure have had on his dying, re-spawning, and Gating (emergency teleport).
Prior to joining the Mercs, on death, he would materialise back at his bind point on Naboo. Last time he died, sucked through a hull breach, he appeared in the Johnny Boy's fighter bay, so grievously injured that he died again.
He has worked out that his re-spawn point relates to wherever Captain Taller's red rock pieces are, and those were handed over to ISB investigator Hillick Soal in an earlier deal.
Despite bravado, Yav now fears being unprepared, and routinely wears a semi-armoured Kingdom of Jod "Go Team" spacesuit with helmet close by.

---Emotional: The elf has two Fears currently.
a) see Mental;

b) Yavscout can make himself invisible, and should be at his safest in that state. He fears any entity that can see him while invis'd, and so far, that has only been undead on Norrath, eg. animated skeletons and zombies, and troll shaman.

---General: Enhancing one's abilities with a magical spell is known as buffing. Yavscout can sometimes become too impetuous when buffed. For instance, buffed with Levitate to float over an abyss, he'll go straight for it, despite the danger of a random spell fail. Sometimes he has to be protected from himself.

---Character Critical Failure: a) Inability to remember most Merc code words and Merc numbers. He used to refer to Lyra Cascada as "Merc Whatever" because he couldn't remember the slitch's number.

b) If Levitate fails while he is at a great height, and he has no safety cables, a net, floating astromech, he's street pizza.

Starship
---Name: Tunare
---Class: N-1 Naboo Space Superiority Fighter
---Hyperdrive Class: 1.0
---Weapon(s): Laser cannon (twin), energy torpedoes
---Shields: Yes
---Sublight Speed: Yes
---Crew: 1 pilot, 1 astromech
---Passenger(s): none
---Max Cargo (kg): 65kg
---Interior Description: Its a starfighter. There's a seat. Room for his feet.
---Other Details: Now that I think about it, the original seat is bobbing about in the sea, back on Port Haven. Yav nicked the seat out of Captain Taller's Cloakshape Fighter.

Yavscout, along with a Kingdom of Jod 'Go Team', helped to capture a largely abandoned Imperial interdictor cruiser from enemy hands.

Starship
---Name: Delicate Delinquent
---Class: Immobiliser 418 interdictor heavy cruiser
---Hyperdrive Class: Class 2
---Weapon(s): 18 quad-laser emplacements, heavy quad-laser guarding the hangar bay
---Shields: Yes, a dozen generic shield generators, plus one from a Neb-B (see below)
---Sublight Speed: Yes
---Crew: 120-200 personnel

The Jod's newly promoted Chief Engineer Bromley, together with SGIS' acquisitions consultant, the Rodian agent Devon Robie, have been tasked with enhancing the captured interdictor.

Picking through wreckage from the Battle of the Whendyll System, they have installed a SERRIDGE Seal shield generator into the breached gravity generator sphere.

Two Phylon Q7 tractor beam generators have been added.

Due to the restrictions of the ship's spaceframe, they have been unable to enhance her power generation, to run these enhancements, so the DD's longevity in combat has not been increased.

In an ambush with star destroyers, she can take more hits, but she really does need to get the frag out of there.

The Force
---Sensitivity: not applicable

Deity
---Tunare, the Goddess of Light

Biography
---Personal History: Surefall Paramedic on homeworld, in home dimension, visiting different environments across the planet, providing help and succor to fellow adventurers.
Came through a dimensional tear into SW universe with two colleagues during a failed rescue to the buried city of Erudin.
In this universe, served as a Medtech with the Galactic Republic security agency, the Secret Galactic Intelligence Service or SGIS, thirty years prior to The Phantom Menace (RPG - Star Wars...007 Series: On Her Majesty's Security Service)
Retired to settle on Naboo, where he ran an exotic weapons shop in Theed, and served as a volunteer pilot within Epsilon Flight of the Naboo Security Force.
In the early years of the Empire, was recalled to SGIS service as an Agent, in an attempt to save a jedi from bounty hunters.
[Classified]
SGIS is allied with the Rebel Alliance, and at the Alliance' behest, Yav was sent undercover to joined the Mercs as a pilot, and on finding that the Mercs engage in many, many more anti-Imperial operations than SGIS, he has resigned his commission, and gone full-time as a Merc.

He is currently second-in-command of the Johnny Boy under Captain Jason Lasso.

---Military History: Pilot in the Naboo Security Force.

Introduction and Patch Four

Yavscout's undercover arrival on the Merc's home base of Port Haven, was marred by a splashdown in the surf, and the irate mercenary population that forced him and fellow Merc recruit Lyra Cascada into a death match at a local arena, with the elf attempting to prevail against a humourless Noghri warrior, until the Johnny Boy, returning from an operation, literally dropped a rescue shuttle through the arena roof.

Strident Haze mission This was the elf's first big operation, and possibly the making of him. Joining three Merc Flights, Yavscout infiltrated the Imperial Nebulon-B escort frigate, part of a convoy escorting the "Battle of the Red Rock Kingdom" painting.

When Darth Vader himself took an interest in the mission, every Merc found their lives placed in the most serious danger, and not all made it out alive.

Mission Impossible Finding himself stuck with the Mercs, with no method to contact SGIS, Yavscout managed to inveigle a visit to Commenor, where he hoped to find a commercial hypercomm to phone home.
Captain Taller gave the elf a secret mission to get a sensor cloak to conceal an area of the planet Watava, as a precursor to a Jod/Merc operation to extract a Red Rock artifact from some ancient ship wreck.

Offered a lift through Hutt Space by the Jod battleship, Sword of Justice, Yav enlisted their help to get the required tech from a scuttled Imperial interdictor cruiser, the Delicate Delinquent.

In the meantime, the Empire unexpectedly got to the Red Rock on Watava, took it for themselves, and glassed the planet.

Captain Taller, on learning from Captain Stakes of the empty Imperial capital ship sitting in space, and that he had a Merc onboard, saw the chance to rescue dozens of prisoners from an Imperial penal facility in deep space, and assigned Yavscout to take the ship over, and bring it to the Block, putting the elf and his allies into direct conflict with a platoon of Zero-Gee spacetroopers.

Command Promotion Despite the availability of countless experienced Jod officers, Yavscout was placed in command of the Delicate Delinquent with the task of getting her trained as a fighting ship within about a month, with a view to reconnecting with the remainder of the Guardian Reliance Fleet.

I'm not saying Mercs attract trouble, but within forty-eight hours, she was embroiled in a three-way - Imperial, Jod, Merc - free-for-all in the Whendyll System, where Jason Lasso and other Mercs were trapped on Port Haven by an Imperial blockade.

Ready to Rescue - Surefall Paramedics The words that Yavscout lives by.

Well, that and, "Rule #9, Never Go Anywhere Without A Fireball."

Fighting over Port Haven with Kingdom of Jod starfighters, when one was shot down, he went down after the down Eta-2 starfighter, landed, and carried the unconscious pilot, Flight Officer Brief Klammern to his own starfighter.
---Traumatic Experiences: see Mental, otherwise, none.

---

YAVSCOUT's SPELLS

Full Spell List, based on level

Well, I am not going to write them all out, but this link to the Allakazham website shows the result of a customised search for Druid level 27 spells and below, which will be in Yav's arsenal.

http://everquest.allakhazam.com/db/...type=dru&level=27&opt=And+Lower&action=search

http://everquest.allakhazam.com/db/...type=dru&level=27&opt=And+Lower&action=search

Spells that he has used in the game, so can be counted as current

Speed of Wolf
Camo / Camouflage
Skin Like Wood
Heal / Light Healing
Frost Rift
Dance of the Fireflies (tried and failed, because he confuses it with...)
Stinging Swarm
Endure Fire
Endure Cold
Cure Poison
Cure Disease
Flame Lick
Shield of Thistles
Careless Lightning
Strength of Earth
Summon Drink
Summon Food
Levitate
Lessor Succor
Whirling Wind


Spells or abilities so far affected by Red Rock exposure

Frost Rift - Red Rock has given this short-term AE (area effect) stun spell the intensity of liquid nitrogen, and killed at least one Jod crewman.

Stinging Swarm - Used aboard the Strident Haze Neb-B, this spell intended to attack an opponent with magical bees, covered an ceiling with hundreds of bees that refused to dissipate, and are probably still there, if the 'Haze is still around.


Ooh, spotted something on that webpage list that Yav does NOT have

Reebo's Lesser Augury
anything Reebo related - must have been new spells since Yav left Everquest.
Primary Anchor Ring
Secondary Anchor Ring

---

Companion droid --- Deputy the Astromech

Model--- Black R2 unit (description changes with Sith-I-5's memory on the day)
Affiliation--- Naboo Royal Security Force, Yavscout

History with Yav--- The two met when the elf stole the N-1 starfighter that Deputy was sitting in, from the Theed hangars, in order to join the Mercs on an SGIS' infiltration mission.

The droid was initially hostile to the elf, but during the Merc' operation aboard the Strident Haze Imperial escort frigate, he helped the elf overcome a panic attack in a turbolift, and realised that he was having more fun hanging around Yav, than back home, confined to the hangars.

According to Deputy, other astromechs were taken home by their pilots to meet the families, play with the kids, but after he joked, "I love children, but I could not eat a whole one," that opportunity was denied him.

Astromechs are programmed to look after their pilots, and Dep has now taken up that role with Yav.
This has included secretly filming a female engineer undressing, so he could play it back later during any boring starfighter flights.

Now that I'm forced to put this sith down, I have no idea how, but Yav and Deputy have shared anecdotes of the droid getting a gig as presenter of the Good Morning Theed breakfast holoshow, and getting fired after a few days.
The droid is still bitter.

Possessions--- Deputy believes that the N-1 is his, and has painted the fighter black, with thick red lips on the nose.
Technically, and I suppose, legally, he has a point, since the elf stole it.

As of five months ago, the droid also has a Saber Guard's lightsabre, which Yav got for him as a souvenir from Port Haven.

Lightsabre description
-----Crystal(s):
-----Blade(s): Single
-----Color(s): White
-----Handle Description(s): Silver, with contoured handgrip.
---Force Abilities: None, he's a droid! At the most, it'll get used as a light source, a cutting tool, or if Deputy is bored one night, and Yav is sleeping on his belly, he'll wake to find it sticking out of his [censored].

The droid adopted a shark that got washed up on Port Haven's shore, soon after Yav joined the Mercs. Sharks eat meat.
If the Johnny Boy's canteen still has the same walk-in deep freeze, there is hidden, the armour-plated lower leg of a shadow stormtrooper that Deputy and Lyra encountered aboard the Strident Haze.
The droid won't be claiming ownership of it any time soon, as part of a cunning survival plan.

 

GAME START!!!!

---

IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Imperial Class Spaceport, one of Craci System's five worlds, Corporate Sector Authority space, several days after Storyline Post One


Captain Jason Lasso, young Corellian leader of the mercenary group known as the Mercs, stood leaning along a railing overlooking the industrialized world they had chosen in the Craci System. Landspeeders raced along ferroconcrete roads below that weaved themselves around factories and warehouses, through tunnels that went through basement levels of skyscrapers, and zigzagged through residential areas. Airspeeders zipped through tightly congested traffic lanes around the skyscrapers and many more skimmed the clouds high above the city. All around, the noises of a bristling galactic city could be heard, with an orange sunset settling in between the skyscrapers in the distance.

Jason took a drag off his cigar, letting the smoke trail off into the brisk breeze that swirled it away quickly from the one hundredth floor docking bay of the Imperial Class Spaceport.

"Captain," said Dak, the black M-3PO military protocol droid which acted as the Captain's personal assistant; Lasso turned his head to the droid as he leaned against the railing, "Everything is set. The Johnny Boy reports in position out of the star system."

Jason nodded, "Good," and up righted himself from the railing and looked back at the Luck's Gamble, a ILH-KK Citadel-class civilian cruiser, where a bunch of rough looking mercenaries stood under the landing ramp. Lasso took a final drag off of his cigar and flicked the remains off behind him into the whirling wind.


*********************************


Low Night's Bar, somewhere near the Spaceport in the city


Music: music in the bar

Lasso was enjoying himself, relaxing at a table with a glass of Corellian rum. Like most businesses near the Spaceport, they catered to the needs of the travelers, most spending long hours in space and in need of entrainment and relaxation. This place was no different; a large circular bar sat in the middle of the establishment, with many organic staff waiting on the hundred or so travelers in this place. A sports-themed section was up against the far wall in front, with a display of holo screens providing news, sports, and other traveling information. Lasso wasn't surprised to see an Imperial Office of Criminal Investigations advertizement on one of the holos, talking about local crime and how to stop it. Nor was he surprised to see a Commission for the Preservation of the New Order advertizement on another holo screen. And the HoloNet News took up two screens, talking about various galactic issues. The usual sports were playing on the other screens: Grav-ball, Shockball, and Nuna-ball, among other sports playing on other screens as well.

Lasso sat in an area between the sports sections and the middle circular bar serving area, where WA-7 service droids catered to patrons' needs. Along the edges of the walls on both sides of the bar, holographic displays of various female species' played on small stages here and there for the more visually stimulated patrons. The lights were lowered, with various holo screens here and there along the side walls presenting news from around the galaxy or other information, as a casino area was on the other side of the circular bar serving area, roped off and monitored by suit-wearing and black sunglasses equipped security guards. Refreshers and the kitchen were along the far side wall. Upstairs, on a second level lead to by stairs and a turbolift, were private rooms and conference rooms for various deals best left undisclosed. Several of the black suited guards roamed up there on the second level and stood sentry at the stairs and turbolift heading up, checking the "VIP Pass" for access. The place, while much bigger, reminded Lasso of the bar on Cloud City. Lasso wouldn't be surprised to find out it was owned by the same people. Even the music was the same.

For his part, Lasso just watched the HoloNet News from a distance---or at least pretended he did at such a distance from the holo screens---and kept an eye and ear on the on-goings of the bar, and looked for people or information without looking like he was looking. The plan was simple enough, take a day to relax, which now that day was coming to an end. Gather supplies, acquire contacts for new business, and then head back to the Johnny Boy. All the Mercs had gone their own ways, taking their own time to relax. They all knew they had twenty-four hours to themselves, then by the end of tomorrow, they had to have their "shopping lists" completed and aboard the Luck's Gamble.

So far, employment was coming up dry. The usual: armed protection, kidnapping, bounty hunting, private military contracting to some distant civil war front. But nothing to really spark a interest or a worthwhile paycheck. While Jason was here to relax, he was the leader of the Mercs and he was here to do what a mercenary captain had to do: gain business. To this end, a promising solution had presented itself for the next contract, Lasso was just waiting---

"Mr. Smith?" Jason looked up at the mention of his alias being used; a silver protocol droid stood there, with one of the black suited armed guards behind him, "Mr. Vortex would be happy to see you now."

Lasso looked at his watch chrono, making a statement without saying words, "About time." The mercenary Captain took the last swallow of his Corellian rum, stood up, and followed the droid towards the stairs and to the second level above, with the suited guard flanking him.

Time to be a bad guy.



TAG ALL (To Be Contained for Jason Lasso)

 

IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Low Night's Bar, somewhere near theImperial Class Spaceport, one of Craci System's five worlds, Corporate Sector Authority space, several days after Storyline Post One


"That is bugging me, please stop," Mr. Vortex stressed for what seemed like the one hundredth time.

Lasso finished petting the miniature Reeksa plant, which soothed it's usual aggressive stance against anyone not Vortex. "What?" Lasso said, circling back around the desk, "Is something wrong?"

"Lucy," Vortex said in reference to the plant, "Does not like anyone. Least of all strangers of your ill repute."

Lasso smirked as he sat down in the chair across the desk from Vortex, "Now Mr. Vortex, you should know that people and plants of my reputation tend to get along. This includes your plant. Lucy is her name, I believe, right?"

"Lucy is a killer."

"My point exactly. The skills my crew and I offer are less then legal, as you are well aware of by now. Or you wouldn't of requested my help."

"I don't need your help," Vortex said, standing up and walking over to his beloved Lucy. The plant snapped at him in warning, at which case Vortex withdrew his hand from petting her and looked over at Lasso; the mercenary captain simply shrugged with a lop-sided smile. The black tux wearing human male of late forties with a silver lines running through a thick head of black slicked back hair, straightened his coat and blinked his blue eyes once, before looking back at Lasso.

"As I was saying, I don't need your help. My men can take of it perfectly fine. I need to be very delicate with how I am not associated with this activity."

"Saving face, huh?" Lasso asked smugly, putting his legs up on the corner of the man's desk.

"Politics, Mr. Lasso. Something that your...people wouldn't understand. And please, remove your boots from my desk."

"No Mr. Vortex, this is my desk now. Because now, you work for me."

Vortex laughed, his laugh quickly transforming itself into a snarl of contempt. "And how is that, Mr. Lasso?"

"The man that owns the largest casino and cantina chain in the Corporate Sector and in the Empire is lowering his standards to a bunch of misfit mercenaries to handle something he professes his own security team can handle better. But, he doesn't want to be found out as the man behind the killing as one of the CSA's most important Prex positions, so he can replace the said assassinated Prex company on the Executive Directorship Board with his own company. Does that sound about right?"

"Millennium Entertainments is an old, dry company that should of been disposed of long ago! That old wretched man of a CEO is keeping the true power in galactic entertainment, my company, from taking the spot his company should of sold to my family ten years ago! And it ends NOW!" Vortex slammed a fist into his other palm. "I will not be held back any longer! My father was, but I won't be! Those profits---those riches---are mine for the taking! I have other...assets already in position to make sure Millennium Entertainments' sub companies and production services will act accordingly. Your mercenaries are the last piece of the puzzle. No one else wanted the job, it was too dangerous. But you want it, I can't help but wonder why?"

Lasso skipped over the question from Vortex. "So now, I own you, like I was saying," Lasso said, "Because now, without me, you can't do what you want. You need to play your political game. But such a high profile mission will have high risks. My crew and I have enjoyed relative peace and prosperity in the Corporate Sector for the last month or so. Why should I disrupt that with this contract? I could make just as much credits over the long term by staying friends with the CSA verses becoming a public enemy of them. And being noticed by the Empire again when warrants are put out for our capture. Bounty Hunters will come to collect on our bounties. My crew and I risk a lot of our security and comfort by doing this contract. So I need to see reason why, walking into the capital city of Mondder, gaining access to the Direx Board complex, and killing the CEO of Millennium Entertainments is worth the risk."

"Because," Vortext said, sitting down and soothing out his jacket and adopting a smile, "I will make you and your crew very rich men. Things have been arranged, so so no information of your activities will not be leaked to the Empire about your involvement."

"That seems a bit magical."

"It's not magic, it's called money Mr. Lasso. Everyone wants their piece."

"My men and I won't do this for free. We will have a high up front deposit."

"You will get paid your contractual agreement and then some more to ensure loyalty and secrecy to the contract."

"When?"

Vortex snapped his fingers and a wall panel slid aside to show a protocol droid, who walked from the hidden tunnel passage, and deposited a black briefcase onto the table. "Now," Vortex said, smiling.

"And the rest?" Lasso asked taking his boots off the desk and standing up as the protocol droid opened the briefcase to Lasso to display the riches; Lasso ran his hand through the promised riches in the briefcase.

"After the mission is complete, a course. You'll be given instructions once I receive confirmation the Prex of Millennium Entertainments is dead."


*****************************


"Your impressions?" Dak asked as the droid walked with Lasso outside and back towards the larger spaceport ahead of them in the cold crisp night air.

"Something doesn't seem right. Maybe Taab picked something up on surveillance I didn't see. We'll ask him," Lasso looked up and to his right towards a block of the city, where a jetpack was carrying an armored figure through the night sky from a rooftop position, "Once he lands."


TAG ALL, Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Sydney Ayres
Low Night’s Bar, Corporate Sector Authority

Sydney Ayres, once a machinist for Rothana Heavy Engineering and once an integral member of the Mercs hangar crew, ran his grizzled hands through a bowl of salted peanuts while he downed another beer. He tapped the counter for the bartender to give him another as his eyes were losing focus in the dim-lighting. Too much to drink or maybe it was simply too much misery. He’d never really been able to forgive himself for leaving the Mercs the way he had. He’d left like a coward. Slinked away into the night when the going got hot. Yeah, Syd, you’re a real hero now. Another frakking Lando Calrissian.

Casually, Ayres glanced up at the sports scores from around the galaxy. He hated sports but he looked anyway as the replays from the games around the galaxy were played on the Holonet. Someone down at the far end of the bar howled in dismay. Their team must’ve lost. That usually meant more rounds of beer and more misery. Good, more money for the bar because it would be a real shame if they went out of business, after all, dive bars were hard to come by in this galaxy, he thought.

And so were good ships.

Ayres had hitched a ride to the Corporate Sector Authority in the hopes that he’d be able to land a job with the white collar heroes of the land of corporations. So far, no luck. His resume was strong, despite his problems with alcohol, but a lot of the firms were tightening their budgets and couldn’t hire a man of Sydney’s qualifications. That translated to Sydney as: You’re too old, we want someone younger, more gullible, more likely to take it up the rear for lousy pay and no benefits. Sadly enough, Ayres had applied to the local oil change shop just to get some sort of income rolling in but they’d turned him down because he was “over-qualified.”

So Ayres had gone searching. Searching for the Mercs whom he hadn’t been able to get in contact with for months. Those venerable mercenaries who shot first and paid well had absolutely disappeared off of his radar. Of course, he wasn’t very savvy with tracking people down. That wasn’t his strong suit and he didn’t have the money to hire someone who could do the looking for him. But he’d heard rumors. Whispers in the dark and that was what had led him here, to this bar, hoping, maybe even doing some praying, though he hadn’t done that in a really long time, for some sort of direction.

Some way out of this place.

Tag:Bravo

OOC: It's a start. Something to work with

 

IC: Winterkill
Near Spaceport city, Low Night’s Bar

So much had changed since his return to the Mercs; it was definitely going take sometime to adjust to all the new faces. As expected, he didn’t trust them. At least not yet. So he opted to do something familiar, instead of exploring the town with veritable strangers. His plans to spend time on the flight simulator would have to wait. For now, Winterkill chose to shadow Captain Lasso. Which was something else he’d have to get used to, the sooner the better. It was strange not seeing Captain Taller, but Taller had entrusted Lasso with his duties and responsibilities, which meant the nagai had to do his part as well.

The hood was up on his jacket as he entered the ‘bar’ right behind a humanoid much larger than himself, several moments after the ‘captain’ had done so. Whether Jason knew that Winterkill was shadowing him or not was not the nagai’s concern. Watching over him was all that mattered. Smoothly, he slipped into the shadows, which abounded within the dive bar. The ‘establishment’ housed more patrons than he’d expected, but it did not take him long to visually find the captain. Winterkill noted the hired guards as well and took inventory of their movements. He also made sure to find the exits, lifts and stairs to the second floor.

The guards were large humanoids, which was probably intended to be an intimidating factor. They would be armed, undoubtedly, but were likely not accustomed to CQC. That was yet to be determined. By the looks of it, apparently one needed some kind of pass to proceed to the upper floor. No matter.

The music was loud, but not inherently unpleasant. Good, at least that meant the other patrons were successfully distracted, should he need to go into action. For now, he knew to interfere only if the captain found himself in any danger he could not get himself out of, otherwise, he was to appear as if he was here on his own.

From his vantage point, Winterkill looked about and assessed the gathered patrons critically. There were a few shady figures here and there, but that was to be expected. No one else seemed to be taking an interest in the captain, or himself for that matter.

Some sentients near the bar cheered as the Grav-ball scores were displayed on a nearby screen. Winterkill briefly glanced their way, then ignored them. A glint caught his attention. He immediately spotted a protocol droid who now approached the captain, who sat languidly imbibing a glass of some alcoholic liquor. Winterkill watched as Jason finished his drink and then followed the silver droid, alongside the flanking guard.

As soon as they disappeared from sight, the nagai started his mental countdown.

A waitress came over, and before she could ask a question, Winterkill waved her off. A moment after she moved off, he changed his location. He wasn’t welcoming any distractions, regardless that this ‘op’ was totally unofficial.

After his mental countdown was complete, there was still no sign of the captain. Looking at the guards gave no indication if something untoward had happened at all.

Winterkill considered his options for a moment, but as he he did so, he spied the captain exiting the establishment. Of course, he acted as if he had not noticed and gave himself a few moments before he slipped out the bar himself. He timed his exit with that of another patron, should there be any ‘eyes’ on him.

Once outside, it was quite easy for him to track the captain, who seemed unharmed as he strolled and chatted with Dak. This was good, seeing how trouble always seemed to follow ‘The Mercs’ wherever they went.

Hmmm. Perhaps that thought was a bit premature.

A robed man was moving casually in the direction of the captain. His approach appeared so casual in fact, that it made him suspicious. Winterkill narrowed his eyes, gauging the figure and decided to move a bit closer…just in case.

---

IC: Mahaben
Near Starport city

The man with the dusty grey robes and stringy grey hair went largely ignored by those who walked past him. Some regarded him curiously, for he did wear a blindfold, yet, he did not stumble as he walked. But none attempted to engage him.

The man ambled forward and smiled, almost as if he had seen something of interest, yet his pace remained the same. It was not clear where exactly he was going, until two figures came directly in his path. One was that of a black protocol droid, the other was of a human man.

“At long last, I have found you…” the robed figure declared, his tone affecting familiarity.

“You there…” this time he pointed at the human male and made sure to get his attention.

“I bring news….” he said now, approaching slowly, his hands were in plain view, lest he be counted as an enemy. He had been advised to take care when dealing with these beings.

“ I believe you know, Sodalis…”

His statement was definitely not a question. After a beat, he spoke once again.

“Ah….You must be Jason, am I right?”

The man with the blindfold smiled and waited for an answer.

Tag:Bravo


*( post feels a bit rusty, but looking forward to fluid gameplay! Yahoo!)

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Low Night's Bar

Entering the bar gave her a sense of familiarity, after a few months aboard that ship, and that hard fought battle with those vulture droids, this place seemed like heaven. A smelly, dark, dirty, heaven. They had music too, two humanoids playing on a small platform; one with a quetarra, the other had a keyboard. It felt good to be out of her flight suit and in regular clothes, it made Masha feel human again.

Masha couldn't complain, not that she would out loud, but the bar was dingy. The noise coming from the sports fans reminded her of her days in flight school, the men losing their minds over numbers on a screen. Lighting a cigarra, she pointed to a bottle with a large E on the label, the bartender smirked and handed her the Ebla beer. Probably the only thing a human could drink in here and still be human, she thought, jokingly. The music was good, but not particularly her taste, she did love the electronic sounds. The quetarra caught her eye, she loved music, it made her feel almost at peace when she played. The alien next to her nudged her a bit sharply, Masha glared over to him; he held up a cigarra of his own gesturing for a light. She kicked herself for seeming rude and lit it for him. Oh well.

To her surprise she saw the Captain walking down the stairs, she gave a small wave; rather sheepishly. He didn't notice and walked outside, Masha didn't mind. Probably on business, she thought, extinguishing her cigarra and finishing her beer. As long as there wasn't any of the crew around it would make what she was about to do a lot easier. Though she secretly wished they could see her perform, then thanked her lucky stars that they wouldn't. She always seemed to find herself split between two sides of how she felt. Nervous confidence, Masha called it she approached the keyboardist between songs. "Hey... So uh... Take a break?" She asked the musicians nervously, holding up enough credits for a few drinks. The aliens looked a bit perplexed as she asked them, hoping they didn't take it the wrong way... "Like, drinks on me," she said pushing the credits into the keyboardists hand. They smiled and he patted her on the shoulder as he walked towards the bar. Here goes nothing, she thought as she changed a few settings on the keyboard; taking out a datacard she used the keyboard's interface to select one of her compositions she could play to. Synthesizers would have to do. Maybe she'd bring a little bit of life to this place, or maybe they'd hate her and tell her to shut up. Masha smiled nervously rubbing her hands together, she had written this back when she was in flight school after having a good grasp on music.

It wasn't particularly impressive, but in hindsight she felt that it spoke to her new life. Picking up the quetarra she tapped a button on the keyboard and began to play. [music] Her voice and the music carrying through the bar, she closed her eyes; not caring who heard her playing, but at the same time hoping it meant something to someone, somewhere. That was why she played after all, not just for herself, but for anyone music spoke to.

TAGS: Anyone inside or outside the bar that can hear her.

OOC: Music is credited to The Heavy, the original writers of the song Short Change Hero, and to Rexon for a great cover.

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
CSA Tower, Corporate Sector Authority Vicinity of the Imperial Class Spaceport, one of Craci System's five worlds, Corporate Sector Authority space.

On the outer ledge of the tower, the Mandalorian surveyed the spaceport and the city beyond. From his perch he felt almost like the gods of old, looking down on the citizens. From here he could see the results of the graft and corruption of the Corporate Sector Alliance. He saw homelessness, theft, thuggery and even murder in what he suspected was a spice deal gone wrong. From here he could have been an avenging angel, one who fought for and defended those unable to defend themselves. From here he could have made a difference in the pitiful lives of those below. But what difference would that have made? Save a dozen and a billion more would take each one's place in a Galaxy full of the same villainy as he saw down there. Besides that wasn't Beskaryc Taab, mercenary. He was a man who cared nothing for justice or freedom, he was a man who cared only about his current job, and it was that job that brought him to this tower rooftop this night.

From here he could monitor the surveillance devices he had planted on Lasso and the other crew members scattered about the spaceport enjoying their liberty. They had all been "tagged" by Taab with cheap devices before leaving the Luck's Gamble, though some of them may have found and disposed of the tracking bugs. Taab wasn't worried about them though, if they could find and disable the devices then they could take care of themselves. It was the ones who either couldn't, or wouldn't (like Lasso) that Taab concerned himself with. He checked up on the Captain's progress, he was nearing the bar, time to give At'ika (Little Atin) a heads up.

"Ball is in your zone," he sent out over their secure comm link. He received two bursts of static in reply as Atin clicked his own comm system twice in rapid succession. An acknowledgement that he had received Taab's message. Knowing Lasso's destination Atin had used his jetpack to bypass foot traffic and get there ahead of the Captain. The Skipper hadn't been told of this contingency plan, but given that he knew Taab was watching over (and listening in with yet another "bug", the skipper was the only Merc to get that special attention), he doubted he would be surprised. He may not have known of the "extra contract" the pair of Mandalorians had taken on, but as Lasso's Security Chief it was certainly well within his purview to make sure extra precautions were made with senior staff.

It had been several months since their last contact with the Kingdom of Jod, but the contract with them still stood. Taab would do his best to keep Lasso alive for the KoJ, and in turn the KoJ would pay handsomely, above and beyond the pay that Taab accrued for his service with the Mercs. It wasn't as if Taab really needed the money, his past as a Jedi hunter had made him a very wealthy man, but the contracts were his way of maintaining professionalism on a job. Besides, if you were good at something you never did it for free, and Taab was very good at what he did. Still despite his contract with the KoJ he was starting to have second thoughts now. Their disappearance was...concerning, though according to his wife their deposits for his services were as regular as ever. But there were other jobs that had been made known to him, one in particular for which he was uniquely qualified. He gave a slight shake of his armored head. There was time to think on the future later, for now he had a job, this job, to do.

Taab listened in with half an ear to what was going on with Lasso in the upper office of the Low Night's Bar. There was no threat there, in fact Lasso seemed to have things well in hand. With the other he listened in on status updates from Atin. After issuing a few easy to follow instructions Taab ended his surveillance, it was time to move in and link up with the Skipper. Igniting his jetpack he flew off from the rooftop and jetted off towards the Captain.

Screaming over the rooftops his flight didn't take long and he landed several meters away from the Captain as a robed man approached him from the other side. Taab started to raise his blaster carbine but ended up lowering it instead when he saw the robed individual was no threat, at least not yet. He called out a simple question to Lasso.

"We good here Skip?"

TAG: Bravo, greyjedi125

---

IC: Atin Taab
Low Night’s Bar, Corporate Sector Authority

In full beskar'gam (Mandalorian armor) Atin Taab entered the bar several minutes ahead of when the Captain was due to arrive. It would give him time to stake out a good observation point as well as to get a few other minor items out of the way. He approached the barkeep, informing him that he was a bounty hunter on the prowl. He rattled off the names of several terrorist, criminal and mercenary groups that he would like to be informed about if anyone made mention of them as he slid over a small stack of credits. One of those groups was the Mercs. With his beskar'gam on he appeared much as any other Mandalorian bounty hunter, and none would suspect that he was only 15 years old. Mandalorians weren't a common sight out here, but their reputation was well known. The barkeep took the credits with a "I'll be sure to let you know." Atin nodded in reply. With that precaution taken care of he then made his way to a back corner of the bar, one with a good view of main entrance. Now it was time to devote himself to his primary mission.

"Ball is in your zone."

Atin replied with a pair of "clicks" back. The Captain was almost here, and it was Atin's job to provide close in protection for him should things go bad. From his spot in the dark corner he could see as the Captain entered the dark and noisy bar. Atin watched him for a moment before turning his attention back to the entryway. He had to see if anyone was following the Skipper. Several beings entered, though none seemed to be paying the Captain any undue attention. Except maybe one. Atin tensed, comming his father. "Skipper has a tail, we may have a situation here..." he began, but as he looked more closely he saw who it was. "Never mind, it's the Nagai." Atin breathed a sigh of relief as a simple "Keep me apprised," came back to him. Atin knew that his father didn't yet know what to make of Winterkill. Truth be told, neither did Atin, but the Nagai knew his craft, that much was certain. Within moments he was lost among the crowd. Rather than look for him Atin continued his watch over the Skipper.

It didn't take long for Lasso to make contact and Atin relaxed slightly as he followed the thugs up the stairs. Things were out of his hands now, but he knew buir (father) was listening in on Lasso's conversation. If anything went...wonky, he would be ordered in. Keeping to his shadowy back corner he began looking out for Winterkill again, but caught no sign of him until he saw him moving into a new vantage point. Atin was sure now that he had been spotted by him. With his new position he and Winterkill could cover the entire bar should it be necessary. Atin gave him a nod across the room, but it was not returned, either going unseen, or ignored.

A waitress approached Atin and handed him a napkin. He took it and read the simple message written there. "Mercs." Atin glanced to the barkeep who made a subtle motion towards an elder man sitting alone. Atin crumpled the napkin and nodded back. Then commed buir again. "Guy at the bar has been looking for the Mercs. I am going to approach him."

"Negative, keep an eye on him, but stay on mission. If I give you the go order, slot Mr. Inquisitive and protect the Captain."

"Roger that."

A few moments later his comm system came to life causing him to tense up again, but the news was good. "They're coming out." Atin looked towards the staircase and as soon as he saw Lasso he commed back. "Roger that I see them. Orders? " With the Nagai now following the Captain too Atin wasn't sure just what to do.

"Stay put, I'll be there soon."

Atin acknowledged this with another set of clicks as he watched Winterkill follow the Skipper out of the bar. Not really knowing what to do next Atin moved away from his dark corner and approached the man at the bar that had been asking too many questions. Cheers went up from several patrons as he sat down next to him. Apparently they were pleased with the latest round of meshgeroya (limmie, the GFFA's version of the beautiful game) scores being reported on the holo. Of course they were happy, Coruscant had lost again, everyone was happy when Coruscant lost these days.

Atin called the barkeep over and ordered a drink, paying the man double for what it cost. Turning to the old man he asked quietly, "So...I heard you were looking for the Mercs."

TAG: Vehn, Heavy Isotope anyone else still in the bar.

 

IC: Winterkill
Near Spaceport city, outside Low Night’s Bar

He had to wonder if the captain was simply pretending not to see the robed man as he neared. For a man who wore a ‘blindfold’ he seemed to have no trouble walking towards a moving object.

Winterkill was about to move closer, when the faint sound of a jetpack increased in volume. He angled his head just so in order to find the source of the sound. His dark eyes affixed themselves for a moment on the descending armored figure, whom he recognized as the current Security Chief (At least that’s what Havah Jeth had told him). The armored figure landed close enough to the captain, lifting a cloud of dust in his wake, which went largely ignored by all, including the robed man.

Winterkill allowed himself to relax just a little, but not by much. Letting your guard down was always a mistake, regardless of the situation. Still, the Security Chief was a mandalorian, and the nagai knew from personal experience just how efficient mandos were. In fact, Winterkill admired mandalorians, despite the fact that his training and expertise grew considerably under a mandalorian mentor. It seemed the captain was in good hands after all, the whole time even. Winterkill thought back to a moment or so ago, when he’d glimpsed ‘the other’ mandalorian at the bar. He had been in motion and was unable to return the respectful nod, which was something he aimed to correct when the opportunity arose. Besides, protecting the captain was his main focus at the moment, now it occurred to him that his services were not really needed. The irony of it caused a hint of a smile to cross his hooded visage, but not before another realization hit him.

Nimble fingers searched the inside of his hooded jacket. It only took him a moment to locate the tracker by feel alone. He felt tricked and honored all at once. His smile widened just a little, before it vanished again. Winterkill nodded ever so slightly toward the Security Chief, before melding even further into the moving crowd. They were protecting the captain together. This is how things should be.

As he moved to a flanking position and waited to see how the exchange with the robed man developed, his ears picked up the sound of music in the background. The Low Night’s Bar external speaker blared out the music within the dive to attract patrons. Winterkill would automatically note such a thing and file it for tactical use, however, this time, it seemed the voice of the singer sounded somewhat…familiar?

That wasn’t the priority at the moment, so he simply filed it. For now, he needed to keep an eye on the captain, but his task now defaulted to keeping the perimeter safe. If anyone attempted to sneak up from the rear, they’d have to deal with him.

If the robed man was not alone, he had no doubt that both the captain and the Security Chief could handle that business.

Another quick thought flashed through his mind as he looked out for any possible threats. Maybe, just maybe…it wasn’t such a bad idea to return to The Mercs. Working like this; it gave his existence meaning.


Tag: Bravo,Bardan_Jusik, anyone else in the area.

 

IC: Sydney Ayres
Low Night’s Bar, Corporate Sector Authority

Sydney finished yet another drink and was about to get up from his seat at the bar when a voice next to him said, “"So...I heard you were looking for the Mercs."

Somebody associated with the Mercs had found him. His prayers had been answered. Hallelujah. But the man who had gotten his attention wasn’t an ordinary man at all. He was an armored warrior from the planet of Mandalore. Bucket-heads, as the slang went. Ayres knew better than to open his mouth and say that to the impenetrable visor that reflected his own visage back at him. Any wrong response and his head would be departing his shoulders very quickly. See, Ayres wanted to live. He had so much to live for, even if he did like to drink, oddly enough.

“I am looking for the Mercs. Used to work for them but since went my own way. Well, things aren’t so green on the other side of the pasture if you catch my drift. So I want back. I’m a skilled machinist, I know my way around most vessels, small or large, and I’ve done my time in the big factories too. Had some hairy experiences in the Clone Wars. A few close calls, things like that. Anyways, I just need to be pointed in the right direction.”

Tag: Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Nurse Ulrike, Crewbeing Mary Formal, The Moon Over Agua bar
Location: Imperial Class Spaceport, Craci System


The two human-looking women sat at a round table within a dark-red, padded, semi-circular booth, topped by a curved bar of gold-coloured metal, twenty metres in from a long rectangular window looking out onto the teeming spaceport streets.

It was clearly brighter outside than inside the establishment, so they would see trouble coming in, before it saw them.

The femmes had been shopping. If they tried to leave their seats without due care and attention, they and the multitude of branded flimsi shopping bags would be going flying.

Be a drokking Holo Moment though.

Both were blonde, though the clearly older one had her now lustrious locks down to her bare shoulders, and wore a new Athosian Pop Idol top and way-too frilly skirt, which seemed to have some sort of memory fabric, as she was constantly pushing down on it to get it under the table.

The other’s hair was much more abbreviated, just about covering her ears and forehead before curving in. Rather than her habitual ripped top and synthleather skirt, she had upscaled, now sporting a sleeveless light yellow ankle-length outfit in skintight shimmersilk, with a high collar, and an indecently high thigh slit on the left side.

“You are going to have to get the first round,” Ulrike told the younger woman, “cos I went fething crazy in the shops. Crazy.”

Mary gave her companion a sympathetic smile. She hadn’t needed to be told, they had been shopping together, thanks to her only having the one usable hand, having injured it during their last job.

She had tried to punch through a dying Espo’s chest to get at his heart, since it was past time for her monthly feed, only to encounter the armour he was wearing under his clothing, and bruising her finger joints badly with the unexpected impact. “Dunno why, you only wear your nurse’ uniform aboard the ship.”

Ulrike tutted. “As long as it has short or no sleeves, and does not impede my movement, shouldn’t be a problem.”

“And you have cleared this with Doctor Cooke?”

“Don’t go raising your eyebrow at me, young lady. The good doctor isn’t with-” Ulrike stopped herself. She’d almost said, not with the Empire anymore, which was probably not the best thing to bandy about an Imperial Class spaceport. “He’s with us now. He’ll have to like it or lump it.”

Both quietened deliberately as a WA-7 waitress droid wheeled up to them with milky, citrus-coloured drinks in long tapered glasses with three straws each.

“Here ya go, Huns!” The droid announced brightly, as it transferred the glasses to the table. It accepted payment Mary, and zipped back to the bar.

Ulrike leaned down and pulled a slim, square datapad from one of the shopping bags, looked down the list, and pressed one. “That’s a tick for shopping like a mad thing. Next, tell Mary that she’s not human.” She glanced at Mary mischievously over the rim of her untouched glass.

Despite being admonished for it before, the younger Merc raised her eyebrow again. “Is this like a bucket list item for you?”

“Bucket list?”

Mary blinked slowly and smiled impishly, then took a long draw on her drink that killed a good third of it. “Never mind. No, not human. Arcateenian.” She looked at Ulrike. “Have you told anyone else?”

“Oh yeah, I’m going to fall for that one, aren’t I?” She raised her hands to either side of her face and waved them for emphasis as she put on the shrill voice of the typical holo-heroine, “Oh, of course not; I thought I would come and check with you first.” Ulrike lowered her hands and resumed her normal voice. “Next thing I know, you’ll have dumped me out the window.”

Amused, the Arcateenian Merc gestured to the window. “You realise we are on the ground floor, right?”

“Oh, frag me!”

Mary blinked in confusion at the apparent invitation. “Okay, I’m getting mixed signals here. First you…” Formal’s voice tailed off as she realised Ulrike was not even looking at her, but past her, a bit over her head.

She half turned in her seat to see what had taken her companion’s attention, expecting to see a handsome male spacer, but instead seeing the holoscreen above the bar showing a news report of an emergency unfolding somewhere fiery.

According to the black and yellow banner of aurabesh text running along the bottom of the screen, a school trip to the UIS Mines had gone wrong, and there was a school hoverbus had been grounded at the bottom, or on the sides of a glowing orange-red crater.

Emergency services were there in force, ground-effect cars parked near the rim of the hole, emergency roof-lights spinning.

Mary looked sidelong at the Merc. Far as she was concerned, she and the rest of Lasso’s group had caused sith worse than that working for President Trankvav back in Wild Space. When the captain wanted to be a ‘bad guy’, he did not mess around. “Yeah? So?”

Ulrike was standing now, or as much as the seat, table, and her petticoats were letting her, an arm pointing at the throng of rescue workers on the screen. “Isn’t that Yav?”

Mary squinted. “Oh, yeah.” She turned back round to her drink. “He’s going to be late getting back to the shuttle, then.”

Ulrike glared down at her. “Oh now, if my med-scanners hadn’t told me already, that alone would tell me you aren’t human.” She sat down, crossing her arms. “Those poor younglings.”

Mary wanted to say, “Drokk ‘em.” But she liked this dress, and she liked her fellow Merc, and whatever Ulrike was drinking wasn’t going to wash out, should she decide to tip it over her. Best to placate. “I’m sorry. Look, the Commander is there. They are in good hands.”

Ulrike sniffled and managed a conciliatory smile. “You’re right. I’m sorry too.” She unfolded her arms and clacked her five-shot stingbeam down next to her milkshake.

The younger-looking femme stared across the table at the energy weapon, and relaxed her left hand under the table from claw mode. “You…you were going to shoot me?”

The nurse blushed faintly, “Hellooo. Merc.”

Tag: anyone

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Low Night's Bar

Opening her eyes as she played the last few notes, she noticed a few of the patrons turning their gaze back to their drinks or friends. Masha faked a few coughs as scattered applause was made and scrolled back through her data card. This one was easy and another favorites from times past. [music] Hopefully those gents will be done spending the credits I gave them after this song... she thought, chuckling nervously as she tuned the quetarra. As she began to play she looked out over the bar, feeling a bit more confident. It took a moment for her to find the right pitch for this song, but the effect surprised a few patrons who looked back up at her as she began to sing. Masha smiled as she sang, recognizing the familiar armor of Atin, ordering a drink and talking to a patron; not that she knew him very well but felt comfort in that there was one of her crew mates here, as far as she could tell. The scraggly looking patron he was talking to looked worse for the wear, I wonder who he is, Masha thought. Five months aboard a ship the size of Johnny Boy probably isn't enough time to meet all the crew members, but she didn't recognize him at all, nor did she see him on the shuttle into port.

Masha played on, closing her eyes and losing herself again in the music.

After she finished playing the applause was a little louder, but brief as it was before. It felt good though, she hadn't performed in a long time and playing relaxed her. Masha uploaded a demo track onto the keyboard, the aliens were halfway through their second round by the time she was finished playing. Unplugging her data card she set the file to delete itself when the track was finished playing. Setting the quetarra down against the keyboard and putting the datacard inside her jacket pocket she sat next to Atin and ordered another Ebla beer, lighting a cigarra as the barkeep placed the bottle in front of her. Masha knew that it'd probably be best to not bring up the Mercs in public, "Hey," she said to Atin, before taking a drink "surprised to see you here. Like, not that it's a bad thing." Masha tried to smile genuinely. Warrior type people always made her a bit nervous, they reminded her of her father; except Atin was much younger, you just couldn't tell behind the helmet. "Who's your friend?" She asked, offering Sydney a cigarra. He may look bedraggled but Masha didn't want to seem rude.

TAGS: Vehn, Bardan_Jusik, anyone that can hear the music as well.

 

Sith-I-5 Approved

Name: Boras Felroah

Gender:Male

Call Sign: Golden

Age:54

Species:Selkath

Home World:Manaan

Affiliation: Mercs

Personality

---Traits: smart, kind, logical, strong, very calm at all times and brave.

---Likes: brandy, salt water, sea weed, helping people, humanitarians, medicine, droids and history.

---Dislikes: The Empire, politics, killers, warlords, slavers and smoking.

---Habits: Talks to himself, strokes his cephalic lobes [tenticals on his face]

Appearance

---Skin Color:Green and dark green

---Hair Color:None

---Eye Color dark black

---Clothing:Basic light armor with a fabricated enviroment underlay (resistance to cold and heat)

---Other Attributes:tall, and has a hunched back.



Weapons:Two twin DL-44 heavy blaster pistols, a small dagger and a selkath cerimonial vibroblade
Equipment:
*bottle of brandy (at all times)
*4 med-packs
*portable medical drone (named GT-27)

Skills

---Primary Skill: Medic
---Secondary Skill: Weapons
---Life Experience:
*slicing
*language speaking
*mechanic
Education

---General Education: basic high school and colledge
---Specialized Education: Manaan medical academy
Flaws/Limitations

----Physical: getting older, less reaction time and slower reflexes
----Mental: older and focused on the old ways as well as a small brain injury from getting hit in the head.
---Emotional: loss of family and enslavement put toll on him.
---General: rusty at life experiences.
---Character Critical Failure: can't run very fast no matter what.

Starship

---Name: Golden Glory

---Class: Modified S-250 Chela-class starfighter

---Speed:1200 km/h

---Hull Rating:standerd

---Shields:standerd and added deflector shields

---Ejection System: no

---Life Support: yes

---Hyperdrive Class:Class 2

---Weapon(s): Twin Heavy Laser Cannons and Twin concussion missle launchers (six missiles each)

---Crew: pilot

---Passenger(s): none

---Max Cargo (kg): 30 kg

---Interior Description: standerd

---Other Details: gold stripes on the sides and a chrome engine.

The Force: None

Biography

---Personal History: Boras was born in 54 BBY and lived through the clone wars. He became a decorated medic and scholar on Manaan. He had two kids and a wife. In 14 BBY the empire took Manaan, killed his family and enslaved him. He served as a slave until 4 BBY when he was freed by a group of freedom fighters. He stole his modified ship and traveled around the galaxy as a combat medic ever since.

---Military History: Served from 42 BBY to 34 BBY in the Manaan Medical Corps

---Traumatic Experiences: The loss of his family, friends and colleges during the imperial occupation as well as the deaths of his old mercenary group.

 

IC: Kilo "Papa Zulu" Typhon
Location: Imperial Class Spaceport, Craci System

"Hey, Sev," Kilo whispered. "Psst." He looked over the edge of the building he sat at down toward the ground. Three stories below the target building loomed in the center of four intersections, making it the centerpiece of the the entire city block. And a large one at that.

The beeping reply of the astromech droid, R4-P77 AKA "Sev", down on the street hidden behind a large dumpster was quick, to the point, and fit the droid perfectly. "Shut. Up."

Kilo grinned as he saw the translated text scroll by on the Heads-Up-Display on the inside of his helmet. "Don't be like that, Sev." He turned his eyes away from the droid's hidden alcove back toward the scope of his heavy DC-17 rifle. And through it, he eyed the barracks building of the local contingent of stormtroopers for the city. It was huge. And full of soldiers. Bad guys.

The orange and white astromech swiveled it's domed head from side to side quickly. It was a nasty habit that the droid had picked up a few months back after the first few times Kilo remote-viewed the video feed from the droid's photo-receptors. It was a very nifty trick that Kilo was able to finagle together with the help from some Merc engineers. Kilo was able to place the droid somewhere, go somewhere else himself, and access additional surveillance angles by looking through the eyes of the droid.

"All I am saying is, don't you think we would have proven to Lasso by now that we can handle some tougher assignments? What with the successful arms deals, the weapons and supplies procurement, the list goes on," Kilo asked.

Sev was silent for a moment, then beeped a reply. The words appeared quickly on Kilo's HUD. "What more do you want? Statistically, our assignment could be arbitrarily placed anywhere from first to third in ranked importance."

Incredulous, Kilo watched the movement of the sentry guards below. "How do you figure?"

"Lasso's venture at that bar has an almost infinite number of possible endings. But he plans well. With the Taabs, that Nagai, and the other Mercs there, he has enough firepower to fend off more than a few dozen combatants if need arises. But there is a contingent of over 500 stormtroopers here and we must watch them to make sure they do not go after the Mercs."

A navigational red arrow suddenly popped up on Kilo's HUD highlighting the target building. Kilo whistled lightly. "Five hundo?" he asked as he adjusted the sights on his rifle. "Almost an even match, for them- wait. Hold up. Additional movement," he paused as one of the outer gates of the large facility opened and a small landspeeder shot out from the underground parking garage. "Sev, I have eyes on a single speeder full of troopers. I see seven...scratch that, eight combatants in the vehicle. Can you confirm from your angle?"

"Eight confirmed. Seven infantry and a single designated sergeant" Sev replied from his much closer vantage point. Through his scope, Kilo watched the driver answer a call on the in-vehicle intercom. Suddenly it stopped, turned on a dime, and shot off down the street at a high speed.

Right toward the Low Night's Bar.

Kilo keyed his microphone and spoke quickly, clearly, and professionally. "Iron Hand, Iron Hand, this is Papa Zulu. Be advised I have eyes on one vehicle loaded with eight, repeat eight, troopers heading toward your location. Could be a false alarm. Could be something big. Say the word and I'll head to your location. Over."

Tag: Bravo , Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Boras Felroah
Low Night's Bar

Boras had sat in a booth on the far side of the bar that overlooked the area. He took a sip of his brandy and looked around at the patrons. Many of them were looking at the sports reviews and the rest were engaged in conversation. Boras had come to the spaceport because an old friend had told him that a group called the Mercs were in the area. He had been looking for the Mercs for a long time but never found anyone that represented it. He watched a girl start playing an instrument and singing as he drank his brandy. She sounded very good and he could tell that she was slowly gaining some courage while she sang and played the instrument because it started getting even better than before. He turned towards the bar and saw a mandalorion talking to an older man. He thought it was weird to see a mandalorian in a public bar but decided not to meddle with him. He waved the waitress over and got another brandy. Boras couldn't find a job anywhere because of his race and age thanks to the empire and he was slowly running out of credits and needed a job to get more money. He realized that not to many people needed a medic in these parts. He looked back at the mandalorian and the girl who had sung was with him and the older man. He noticed an emblem on the mandalorian's armor that looked alot like picture his friend had sent to him before and realized that they might be part of the Mercs or at least a group that could use him. They were at least to him a very odd group of people in a room filled with odd people. Boras decided to investigate the group but before that noticed a man near the front of the bar. He looked very strange but almost as if he was watching and waiting for something to happen. He payed the waitress, sipped the last of his brandy and walked towards the group. He got to the bar and thought to himself "here goes nothng" and then walked up to the group. He than asked the group while taking out his datapad which had the picture of the Mercs symbol "excuse me but i've been watching you all from my booth and and was wondering if you are part of a specific group i've been looking for?" ​

​

​

Tag: Bardan_Jusik, Heavy Isotope and Vehn​

​

Very first post, a little rusty but they will get better.​

 

OOC: Cannot immediately find the place to link to it, but recent news reports have described a crater that has been burning off methane gas for the last forty years. This incident is based on that location.

---

IC: Yavscout, UIS Mines
Location: Craci System planet, dozen kilometres from the Imperial Class Spaceport


The elf followed one of the local rescue workers up to the top of the rise which formed the edge of the crater, his boots sinking into the black soil, or ash, or whatever it was.

The man was in fire-retardent gear, and a bulky florescent jacket, while the elf, being on shore leave within a planetary atmosphere, was in his idea of casuals: grey trousers, long white t-shirt, stormtrooper belt.

He was on the comlink to Deputy aboard the Johnny Boy, trying to persuade him to bring the Tunare, their N-1 starfighter, down, although the transmission was being cut out intermittently by some kind of local magnetic fluctuation.

Everyone else here was experiencing the same thing.

Yav frowned as he listened to the droid whistling and beeping about something completely irrelevant.
“Law enforcement?” he stopped following the man, and turned to look down at the haphazardly parked vehicles and concerned loking beings, rescue workers, media, some parent-looking types, the ubiquitous mirror-visored Security Police, or Espos, for crowd control The latter had their backs to him, as the Surefall Paramedics pass printed for him by Kingdom of Jod Royal Lithographics, and back-stopped by either them, SGIS, or a shadowy Corellian organisation that of course he had no knowledge about, had let him through the cordons. “Yeah, some.”

White noise sounded from the comlink speaker, forcing him to repeat the question louder. “Say again; all after, ‘am I still wearing that t-shirt with ‘The Mercs’ emblaz…” He looked down at his own front, which you would have thought would be un-necessary. “Ah, frag. Never mind. Anyone asks, I’ll tell 'em it means Mobile Emergency Rescue Crew or something. Now get the Tunare down here!”

“You coming?” A gruff voice asked from above him, and Yavscout turned to look at the heavyset human who had already reached the top.

“Sorry Chief.” He waved the comlink for emphasis, “ My partner is reluctant to bring my equipment down without informing Spaceport Flight Control.”

“Wise man, your partner.”

“Wise droid.” Yavscout reached the top, and bending his leading leg to steady him as he peered over and down into the crater, to spy the white and yellow, heavily smeared in black particles, a repulsor-coach with lots of scared-looking faces behind the many windows. “I’d have expected more screaming.”

The craft had landed heavily on the right side, from his perspective, of the crater slope, whilst about a hundred metres from its right-rear corner, a glowing red-orange hole flickered with unseen fires.

“Site Foreman told them to shut the drokk up. Seems the company did not want any trouble, and didn’t even alert the authorities. One of the passengers, younglings or a teacher, had a comlink on them, and managed to get a message out.”

The elf simmered. He’d have to have a word with the man afterwards.

“So what’s making the crater glow, and creating all this heat?”

“We call it, El Quema Pendejo. There were plans to make this a gas mine, but something went wrong-”

No sith.

“-and the company tried to burn of the gases, that was almost a decade ago.”

Yav glanced at the firefighter, while pointing at the glow. “Wait, that thing has been burning for ten years?”

“Yep.”

The elf looked over the grounded vehicle, noticing something missing. “So why haven’t you got any tethers going down to it, magnetic clamps, that sort of thing?”

“Magnetic fluctuations affecting your comms, doing the same to whatever we try to attach, plus the kinetic impact of landing clamps on it, is pushing them closer to the hole. If we put a craft over with a tractor beam, they risk their repulsors and other systems cutting out, and dropping either onto the bus themselves, or getting into trouble themselves.” He indicated the shifting sands of the slopes. “I’m not sending any of my men down this way.”

“I’m not one of your men, Chief.” Yav determined, “If I cannot figure out a way round it, I’ll be going down there myself.”

He briefly considered calling on Taab or Atin, thanks to their rocket packs. The elder Mando’ had schooled him on the difference between rocket and jet packs, something to do with oxygen, but the information had gone the way of most of the Merc code words; he couldn’t remember those either.

Besides, a) they would want paying, and b) he was worried about this magnetic anomaly thing that had been hampering rescue efforts so far.

To be continued…